“But I Want to Go Camping”
or
“Nothing Ever Goes As
Planned”
Prior to September 11 of last year, we had scheduled a
camping trip for the weekend after that eventful day. When the time came it didn't seem right to be out having fun
with all that was going on...but not going didn't seem right either.
So we went. Our usual spot.
The truck full of camping gear, tent...the boat.
It was a somewhat somber weekend, but we tried to have fun anyway.
Howard and Susan came out and between the four of us, we were able to
liven up. Howard has a way of
getting me going when I'm not. He
did a great job on this particular weekend even though he and I had our most
serious talk ever...world events, world politics, our bigger place in things,
all kinds of stuff. Our minds and
hearts were heavy that weekend but we enjoyed time with our friends and some
time by ourselves. We had been
trying to get pregnant for a couple of months at this point (but we weren't
trying hard enough in my opinion!).
A few weeks later we are helping another friend (Kenny)
get ready for his wedding. Rayna
hasn't told me but she suspects something and she leaves early for the
store...to get something we need for breakfast, or so she said.
I found her later cooking with this HUGE grin on her face.
I asked what's up so she took my hand, led me to our bathroom.
What she really went to the store for was a little test that she now
shows me the result strip from. My
response was "what are you trying to tell me?"
When she explained I said "how accurate are these
things?"
We were pregnant and I was scared.
And not just a little bit.
I'd spent the past few years getting myself on stable ground after my
tumultuous 20's. I was more than
scared, just what the hell was I thinking...getting us pregnant.
WHAT IN THE HELL was I thinking? I
could go FOREVER without being a daddy. Being
an uncle is just fine with me!! Maybe a godparent or something.
Things are fine with just the two of us.
What are we doing?! Besides,
I don't do hospitals and doctors very well...especially if someone I care about
is involved. Just ask our friend
Kristi on the birth of her first baby! I
walked in after they finished her epidural and tough Kristi had eyes like
saucers and looked like she just stared into the face of the angel of
death...that was all I needed to be freaked.
What the heck would I do when it was my wife up on that table? What WOULD happen to HER?
What IF something happened to her? (I can get nervous again just writing
this!)
After the initial shock, I am supportive and I go to the
doctor with her for every visit and even take Lamaze classes (mama didn't intend
to go natural, but daddy hoped he could!). The pregnancy is flawless...no trouble, morning sickness
doesn't last long and is not too strong (yea, right, easy for me to say huh
Rayna?). Sometime during the
pregnancy she decides that we need to camp on Labor Day weekend...yea, it was
her idea even though that weekend is nearly 2 weeks from her due date (June 11).
Tough Rayna wanted a story to tell everyone..."That's right, I
camped right up to 2 weeks before mine was born."
(You really have become a southern woman now haven't you Rayna?)
We camp on Percy Priest so we are not too far away from our
hospital, Summit. I'm worried about
her because there isn't much for her to do...she can't sail (doesn't want to be
in the water or too far away from her vehicle!), she can't swim so she just sits
around the campsite and rests and reads anything other than baby books.
We had the site from Friday through Monday (Labor Day) and
Sunday is my birthday. I keep
joking that I don't want him to be born on my birthday and take it away from me.
Sunday comes and Rayna is determined to make me happy, she works way too
hard while we are camping...makes me a big dinner, runs into town and gets a
cake. It was great.
She even sends me out to see the fireworks they have at Nashville Shores.
I go on Kenny and Janet's (the couple getting married
earlier) dad's pontoon boat out to see the fireworks. On the way back I decide to call Rayna and let her know we
are coming back. She is strangely
short with me. When I get back to
the campsite she is in her car with the windows rolled up and is on her cell
phone. "What the hell is she
doing?" I say to myself. I tap
on the window and she gives me the hand.
My pregnant wife is locked in her car, with the windows
up, is talking on her cell phone and gives me the hand when I tap?
"What
the hell is going on? I bet THAT is
the @#$$*&~ father!!" (See, mamas aren't the only ones who can
freak a bit during pregnancy!)
Well, while I was out having a good time, she wanted to go to
bed early but started having pains in her lower abdomen.
She got a little nervous about the pain and her blood pressure went up a
bit and she started sweating.
When I got to her in the car, she was on the phone with a
nurse. This was after the cell
battery nearly ran out on her while she was in the tent making the call
initially! The nurse said if she
was in pain and had a fever to come right in.
She hung up, had tears in her eyes, rolled the window down
and grabbed my hand. She pressed it
to her forehead and said "do I have a fever?" I said that she was a little warm at which point she says
"get in, we are going to the emergency room."
Now I have no idea what is up. Rayna
is crying and I'm trying to get her to tell me what is happening.
It all happened very fast, but I ended up driving.
When we get there we keep telling everyone and everyone keeps
asking..."How far apart are the contractions?" "She's not having
contractions, she is in pain.", "How far apart are the
contractions?" "She's not having contractions, she is in pain!",
"So how far apart are the contractions?", "She's not having
contractions @#$$*&~it, she's in pain! How many times do I have to tell you
people!"
It is a bit of a Chinese fire drill until they finally get
her upstairs in an observation room. They
put her on a monitor and say "how far apart are your contractions?"
It really isn't funny so Rayna explains, at which point the nurse
promptly points to the readout and shows where Rayna IS having contractions.
What happened was that our baby was near.
He was riding so low that he put pressure on her cervix (ain't it amazing
how the subject matter changes once you've had a baby!) and was causing her pain
from being on her feet too much (trying to make my day great!).
They observed her for 2 hours and then we went back to camping (again her
decision) with Rayna feeling a little embarrassed.
We
finish camping on Monday and pack everything for home.
When we get
there, I want to clean and put EVERYTHING away.
We are just exhausted as we have had nearly no sleep all weekend long.
Now lets see, Thursday I had no sleep because I was getting ready to
camp. Friday I had no sleep because
Howard got me up at 1am to play...which we did until about 4am. Saturday I had no sleep because the mattress kept deflating
("my hip is in the ground"...and you know "when mama ain't happy,
ain't nobody happy!"). Sunday
I got no sleep again...emergency room visit.
Monday comes and jeez we could use 1 more day to rest up!
We still clean everything up and I could not have done it had Rayna not
helped. I didn't always see her working and she always ignored me
when I told her to quit and leave it to me.
But she helps anyway and by 9pm, we are pooped and fall asleep.
6 hours later (3:15am, May 28) I awake with Rayna telling me
that she thinks she peed herself in bed and that she is having contractions
(again, my, my how topics change!). I
time them and they are all over the place so we lazily get ready...we are not
fully packed for the hospital you know since we are still 2 weeks away from the
due date! After an hour more the
contractions are stronger and they are hitting like clockwork every 5 minutes
and we are still not done packing!
We start rushing and forgetting stuff and finally, we are out
of the house after 5am (but I forgot the CD player...mama needs help
concentrating!, we did take Lamaze!). We
get to the hospital and they check her "water" and boy is it ever
broken! One nurse says to the
other, "cancel that inducement, this one is staying."
Everything is fine but the contractions are really starting to hurt.
She is only 3 cm dilated and is thrashing in the bed when they come.
The nurse is telling me to quit doing Rayna's breathing or I'll pass out
(now stay with me here!)...I give the nurse a "please don't try to tell me
that again" look, I mean...Is it more important to get Rayna breathing
properly OR is it more important that I do not pass out?
What is the worst that could happen if I pass out?
What is the worst that could happen if Rayna doesn't breathe properly? What would you do?
Well I didn't pass out but Rayna begins to SCREAM for an
epidural. "UH UH OH, I NEED
THAT EPIDURAL!!! GIVE ME THE EPIDURAL NOW!!!" (followed by something that
resembled pea soup, her head spinning, the bed levitating, strange voices)
Her screams for the medicine were the most guttural sounds I had ever
heard from her...but they won't let her have it because she is only at 3cm.
I'm watching Exorcist re-runs on that hospital bed and they CAN'T give
her the epidural?
All this is happening too fast for me...like a dream...I'm
just trying to help her!!! but nothing is working! The nurses finally contact the doctor who says give it to
her! When they show up to do the
dirty deed, I leave the room since this is when I can begin to make calls and
take my mind off the fact that someone is about to stick a needle into the spine
of my wife in order to make her pain go away.
The epidural was what scared me the most.
The epidural was why I took Lamaze when we were too late for
the "Birthing" classes. And
thank GOD I did because I was at least settled enough that I didn't required
medication and could make phone calls. I
probably did get a little teary eyed...I just hate needles!
When I return, Rayna is propped up in bed with a big smile on her face.
All is fine now (yea right, you're fine!)
Before 9am, things are slowing down and they are giving her
pitocin to keep her going (if you don't know what that is, get pregnant, you'll
find out) so Rayna and our friend Janet send me downstairs to get some breakfast
since we could be here a while. I
eat a huge hospital b'fast bar breakfast. It was decent food but something told me to hurry.
When I was done and heading back, Janet was already down looking to tell
me that Rayna was at 9 or 10 CM and I had to get up there RIGHT AWAY!
The baby would be here soon!
Oh
my.
This
is it.
The
moment of truth! Could I hold up
without pharmaceuticals?
I get to the room and things are fine.
The "pushing" nurse comes in and we begin to do our
stuff...which we had to learn on the fly because we didn't get to the pushing
chapter at the Lamaze classes (we had 2 more weeks left!) Janet brought the CD
player from the house and the Sade Greatest Hits CD runs out sometime around 10
so we switch to the Braveheart soundtrack (how appropriate!
CREAG AN TURIC!...do a google search for that if you don't understand
it). I am listening to one of the
best soundtracks ever written and I am witnessing one of life's most amazing
moments.
Since
Rayna is not in pain, there isn't much for me to do....other than witness this
awe inspiring event! I've been at
Rayna's head talking to her, rubbing her leg (as though she could feel it!) and
making sure the camcorder was setup right (that's right, I didn't tell you, I
recorded the whole thing on video. The
camera was discretely positioned so that with a scant few seconds of editing it
should be viewable by the public! It
is so funny watching me rub her leg while she has NO feeling in it.
Later she said that she knew I was doing it but didn't want to disturb me
since it seemed to comfort me...go figure.)
I decide to move down to her feet and take a look since the
impression our nurse was giving us was that we were getting very close.
I look and I am able to see his little head as he getting ready to be
born. It is so wonderful that it is
hard to explain. All I know is that
when I first saw his little head with all that hair, I looked back up at Rayna
in a way that is forever changed.
Wow.
Words
can't do it justice.
If
it were a sporting event, the nurse and I would have to do a little "we're
not worthy" bow to her! She
never breaks a sweat (after the epidural that is! but papa was another story!)
and on the third push she asked the nurse how many more she'll have to do! The Dr. shows up (I think they timed this somewhat with
the pitocin). Rayna and the Dr talk
and the Dr is adjusting the "paper work" (have a baby and you'll find
out!) when the "pushing" nurse says, "do you want her to
stop?"
The Braveheart soundtrack is at one of its most dramatic
moments...one of the pivotal battles in the movie is ending.
It was just a couple more pushes and at 10:25 AM, he was born.
6 pounds 11 ounces and 19 inches long...a beautiful, healthy baby boy.
Duncan is Scottish for "brown warrior/king", Nathaniel is
Hebrew for "gift of God" and McCullough is Scottish for "son of
boar".
Duncan
Nathaniel McCullough of the Clan MacCullough and of the Clan MacLaren was born!!
I understand that the first thing a father does is make sure
a baby is his but I think I made sure Rayna was OK and then I began to check out
"the boy" (I'm still just a husband at this point!).
They had to take him to a little table in the room while the nurses
suctioned him out a bit so I had to wait. Rayna
had held him but I had to wait. I
had a need to hold him but I didn't feel any different that I had an hour ago.
They also say that fathers are not always sure what to make
of a newborn. That we are sometimes
indifferent while we process everything. While
I didn't feel indifferent, I felt something changing.
I felt an incredible instinct to protect BOTH my baby and my wife.
I wanted to hold him and her.
Rayna
had held him, the doctor had held him, the nurse had held him.
I wanted to hold him. But I had to wait.
Finally, I got to take him from the table to mama.
But I got to hold him. It
was strange, at that moment, I wanted to keep holding him, but I knew mama had
to get him and that my turn would come later.
I was a little dazed by it all. I
was becoming a daddy.
The
nurse gave us 2 hours to "bond" and then I had to take him to the
nursery to be checked out. I got to
hold him some during this time. He
was so little and so cute...something that needed my protection.
I felt an urge to step into the hallway, raise him over my head and growl
from deep in my guts to let everyone know who he was and that he was here!
I didn't (Rayna was thankful for that!), instead I just took
him to the nursery as proud as I could be.
The nurse explains to me what is going to happen.
I take some pictures and ask that they try to get that last bit of
merconium off his belly while I'm taking pictures (again, get pregnant and
you'll find out ALL about it!). The
nurses give each other one of these, "oh, we got one of those fathers"
looks and proceed to scrub his belly making him SCREAM all the while explaining
to him in a singsong voice that it is because I wanted it scrubbed off that this
is happening.
Absolutely hilarious.
First
time I've laughed since we were camping.
I
leave and go to explain to Rayna what will happen.
We are moved to a
I don't know what happened over that first day and night.
At some point during the second day I would hold him and talk to him.
Rayna was watching for it. She
was waiting for it to happen. And
then it did, I held him and told him I loved him.
She was looking for it, waiting for it, expected it. And then it started
in earnest.
I would hold him and talk and before I knew it I would be
crying, sometimes just bawling. It
would always happen when some damn nurse or orderly would drop by...there I'd
be, holding the baby trying to wipe my eyes...sniffing.
I
think they've seen it before though.
It was just so amazing.
There is no way to describe it. Well,
I can hold him now and talk to him without crying...most times at least.
I was ready to go through life never experiencing this. Now that I
have, I just can't imagine having never felt this.
I just can't imagine it.