Mom and Will Are Well

Sim and Will are doing well. Now the dust has cleared a bit and I feel like sharing how it all went down.

December 31, 2008: Around 7-8 p.m. Sim felt some decent contractions. She had felt them before, but something was different this time. They were closer together and a bit more consistent. Excitment builds up at my parents house (where we spent our remaining moments in 2008). The rest of the evening, the contractions came in groupings. Pretty strong each time, but not entirely consistent. Still, there were quite a few of them.

January 1, 2009: The new year rolled in and things quieted down a bit. About 20-25 minutes into 2009, Sim started feeling the good-sized contractions again, and we headed home. In the driveway, we debated whether or not to just head to the hospital. We decided to head inside, call a doctor and share what was going on.

"Sounds good, come on in," was the response.

Around 12:45 we went into the hospital and Sim settled in as outpatient for the time being. A quick walk up the hall gave us the opportunity to hear the sounds of the end of active labor for a woman and the sweet sounds of new life on our way back to the room. We looked at each other and smiled. Sim was given morphine and give some therapeutic sleep. Around 3:30, she dozed and gave in to the drugs. She was out. I was tired and didn't need drugs. I was soon out like a light as well.

January 1, 2009: Around 8:30 Sim got checked again (she was beginning to get some serious and more frequent contractions at this point). The doctor informed us Sim was 6-7 cm dilated. She was handling them like she was only 3 cm dilated (in the doctors and nurses own words at different times from a variety of people). Sim continued to sit through some awful pain, which came in sudden and tumultuous waves. It was mid afternoon when Sim became 9.5 cm and began pushing. She was shocking the doctors and nurses with how well she took it all. I soon came to realize that Sim is my biggest hero. The balance of heart, strength and grace were exhibited in ways I can't begin to explain. After a good hour and a half of solid and focused pushing, the doctors were able to find out his head was a bit sideways. This was around 4 p.m.

At this point, Sim had physically, emotionally and mentally been through an entire birth process, but here's the kicker... WITH ZERO DRUGS. Although Will was still inside her, Sim had battled through EVERYTHING but actual delivery. All the doctors and nurses agreed that she had ALL the bragging rights of any woman who had given birth naturally - WITHOUT DRUGS. It was then that the DOCTORS suggested an epidural. Even though she didn't complain or ask for it, Sim quickly consented. She was exhausted and felt as though she had run a marathon and fought a battle, yet the fight wasn't over.

She epidural was injected into the spine, and other drugs were administered as well. Soon Sim felt hardly any pain. She felt so tired. incredibly tired. She had done so well and fought so hard. No one should have to go through all that without actually delivering. But she marched on. She was given an hour to doze, rest and just catch her breath. 5 p.m. came around and the battle continued. Sim once again began giving it all she had. I was at a loss for words. She kept going and going and going. Eventually, the doctor stepped out of the room and came back in a few minutes later. She told us she wanted another doctor's opinion on next steps. I could see what was coming and wasn't sure how Sim would react. In a little while, another doctor came in and another round of pushing began. After a bit, the doctor told Sim to stop pushing. She explained that the baby's heart rate was elevated and they didn't know why. They said a c-section was what they recommended.

Sim began to tear up. I understood why. She had battled through a tough labor already. She had gone into the "last stage" not once, but twice. She should have something to show for it by now. All that work... all that pain... all that focus and concentration... all to end with a c-section.

I saw her eyes and immediately began to cry with her - involuntarily. She had worked so hard and done everything right. It wasn't how she had imagined or rehearsed it a million times in her head.

Eventually Sim understood that a c-section would be best for Will. They called in and assembled their team - which included a New Zealander. It's always nice to hear someone from Australia's neighborhood. They prepped Sim for surgery and I waited outside the O.R. for the doctor to call me in.

In the O.R. Sim was chatting it up with all the doctors and nurses. Spirits were good and it was a very light-hearted atmosphere. I knew and could see (from popping my head over the sheet now and then) that the doctors and nurses meant business, but their professionalism enabled them to keep Sim upbeat and feeling like a queen.

About 15 minutes into the operation, the anesthesiologist told me, "look! they've got his head peaking out." I jumped off of my stool (right next to Sim's head so I could keep her company) and looked over the sheet in time to see his head emerging, followed by the rest of him. I was completely and utterly amazed. I couldn't stop looking. I heard them say that Will was out. Then Sim began crying again - this time out of shear joy. And again, I followed suit. We held Will together for about ten minutes as they sewed Sim back up - a memory I won't forget.

And now Will is doing great and learing all sorts of stuff about feeding, knowing his mom and dad and other things that babies do. He was 8 pounds and 12 ounces. We are absolutely blown away by him. God gave us a love for this little guy that we never could have imagined, and we give thanks to God for it.