Mother's Day - Take Two

(an abridged excerpt from Doug's journal)

Today was the scheduled birth ( by C-section) of our 5th child.  How lucky can my dear wife be to  have two mother's days, back to back? 

We walked out the door of our house at 4:30 this morning and arrived at Holy Family hospital around 5:15.  The normal doors were closed at such an early hour, so we had to enter through the ER doors.  We went through the check-in procedure in the maternity ward and were given room 217. Sheilah got dressed in the Victoria Secret hospital gown that is so very cool - pun intended - and she lay down on her new bed to wait. I was given my medical suit that I had to wear when in the operating room (OR). It consisted of the zip-up full body bunny suit, hair net, slippers, and a face mask. Very cute.

After settling in, the nurses began to poke, prod, and shave Sheilah.  As they put in Sheilah's IV, it hit me that we will be having a baby today. I have known intellectually for some time, but the full implication began to sink in as I held her hand during her preparations. This is the fifth time my dear, precious wife has entered the valley of the shadow of death to bear us children, and it is amazing what she will do with such dismissiveness.  Over the past few months, each time I have asked her if she is worried or has concerns, she immediately responds that she is not at all concerned, and she is honest.  If it were me, the anticipation of all that would happen, let alone what could happen, would land me in the mental ward. 

When the time came to head to the OR (around 7:30), I jumped into my bunny suit while Sheilah was led away by a nurse. The nurse who took me to the doors outside the OR explained that as of this morning, there is a new policy that fathers are not allowed in the OR until after the epidural has been administered.  The reason?  The last three fathers who have been in the OR during the procedure have fainted, despite heartily assuring everyone beforehand they would be OK. One guy fell and hit his head on a table, cutting himself open. According to Gordon, our anesthesiologist, another father knocked down every instrument in the room trying to get back up, and they finally announced, "Help him up or hold him down!" So I had to stand in the hall and wait.

I have never had an issue fainting, but I would hate to state with bravado that I am manly enough to be in there and then faint, so I waited patiently. My personal weakness is the pain from any sharp object meant to puncture my skin - aka needles - or the anticipation of the pain, which is always worse. I am perfectly fine not seeing Sheilah get shots.

I was led in after she was all ready, and upon seeing my wife lying on her back in the shape of a cross, legs bound down to the table straight below her and arms outstretched to either side (though not bound), it hit me even more deeply that we are having a baby. The symbolism of the cross was not missed, though I am sure there are medical reasons and not symbolic ones for that physical arrangement. I sat by her head and spoke softly to her while the medical personnel finished preparing and while waiting for the doctor. Sheilah and I chatted a bit - nothing serious - and made a few jokes about the situation, but it is difficult to be normal in the OR.  It is so different from other rooms we normally occupy in life.  The lights are more sterile, everyone is fully covered and business-like; it is not a normal, daily experience. However, we were both relaxed and OK.

Our doctor (Dr. Hardy) and his colleague, Dr. McKenna, came in and began their work. It did not take very long, and even though there was a sheet between us and her stomach, it was intense because we knew what was happening. I could hear Sheilah's heartbeat on the monitor (beep, beep, beep), and suddenly it flatlined. No one jumped up or seemed alarmed. I looked at Sheilah, who is normally pale but seemed even more pale in that lighting, and asked if she was OK.  I thought it would be good to make sure her heart was beating. It seemed as if she spoke in slow motion, but she said she was fine. Gordon then explained that they were using an electric cauter, and that messed up the instruments. Thank you for the heads up.

Despite being kept out of the OR while they gave her a shot, I was told I could peek over the sheet if I wanted to watch what was happening. Not a chance. I did stand up when they were ready to deliver, and it still amazes me that they grab on by the head and pull the baby out, though I realize they also are pushing from above. At 8:02 AM, out came our little guy, and he immediately began hollering. It is a wonderful sound, high pitched and raspy at first. He kept it up and was soon being complimented for how vigorous he was. He had an 8 and a 9 on the Apgar, and everyone said he was "so big," especially his hands. He looked tiny to me, but I am used to our daughter Alexis, who is a small gorilla. I made sure Sheilah was OK and then went over to the warmer and watched Sue, our baby nurse, clean him up.

I took a few pictures and a video, then checked on Sheilah again. There was now blood and fluid pooling on the ground by my feet, and then Dr. Hardy asked for me to come around the sheet and to "look at something."  This also happend when Alexis was born, though at that time, they had not yet cut into the uterus. 

I am not allowed to watch the epidural, but Dr. Hardy had me look at the fully cut open stomach and uterus, blood pumping, oozing, and pooling.  Not too bad, but needles bother me.  I did not exactly know what I was looking at, but he was trying to show me the scarring that has occurred from prior C-sections. He said if he had known it was this bad, he would have taken the baby a few weeks earlier. He later told Sheilah that if we were not of his faith, he would tell us flat out that we could not have any more children, but because he shares the same beliefs and knowledge as we do, he urged us to devote time to praying about whether we should get pregnant again. 

After ensuring Sheilah was OK, I went with Sue and Peter to the nursery.  Our little boy's name will be Peter Kai. "Kai" is Scottish, in honor of our Scottish ancestry (the Miller line). "Peter" is to guarantee he gets teased at school so he gets tough. Calling him Sue would have been overkill.


I spent some time in the nursery watching, helping, and taking pictures. It is funny to see the reaction from people when they learn that Peter is not our 1st or even 2nd child, but our 5th. Sheilah still looks young, and I must look inexperienced. Another father, who could not have been more than 30 himself, came into the nursery and began telling me that Peter's cry was the most wonderful thing I would hear right now, but in 3 months it would drive me crazy. I smiled and made a neutral comment, not really wanting to engage in conversation because I was enjoying the first few moments of our new boy's life. Sue remarked to the other father, "You don't have to tell him - he's got 4 more at home. He's an old pro." The other father did not say much for a minute.

In the nursery, they took all the measurements. Peter weighed 10 pounds 0.6 ounces, so they rounded up to 10 lb 1 oz. He is 21 inches long. And he is not fat. He actually has skinny legs and no backside. He is just a solid, big boy. We are extremely blessed that he is perfect, though he is different from our other 4 children. The first 4 all looked very similar at birth, and for the first several months there was no mistaking they were ours. Peter has similarities, but he is also different in subtle ways - the shape of his head, his hair pattern, his build, the inside of his mouth, and so forth.

I went back to our room to be with Sheilah, who was recuperating and doing her best to meet her goal of losing 15 pounds in 24 hours by bleeding all over the bed.  The bleeding did eventually slow down to a level that made the nurses fell better.  I helped out where I could and just spent time with her.  She was getting anxious to see Peter again, so I showed her some pictures I had taken, and then they wheeled Peter in to the room.

As I held this new gift from heaven and looked at his perfect little body, my thoughts could not help but go to the important things in life. What am I doing with it? We spend so much time on the unimportant. Experiences like the birth of a child magnify and bring to the surface our emotions. Sheilah and I were reading from C.S. Lewis' "The Horse and His Boy" this afternoon, and some parts that would normally just be exciting began to bring tears to my eyes because of today's events. In the OR, Peter would not stop crying while in the warmer.  After he was cleaned up, Sue wrapped him up, handed him to me, and told me I could take him to Sheilah. As we approached her head, Peter stopped crying and was content to just lie there partially in my arms and partially on Sheilah's shoulder. I could see Sheilah start to tear up, partly because of our new little boy, and (I learned later) partly because she was touched that he calmed down when brought close to her.