...AND SO IT BEGINS!

When I was in my mid twenties, I had a roommate. Josh. Josh became the black sheep of his family when a strict christian upbringing and a move away to college introduced him to beer. Josh would keep me up all night and party his face off. He lived a life of midnight burrito runs and 3am Kraft Dinner masterpieces. Occasionally I would even find Josh passed out. Smelly from bodily fluids which he had escaped him throughout the night. I now know that it was just training. Training for the baby.

My fiance Heather and I were excited. We were being admitted to the hospital on the Wednesday and we were going to be induced. For the record, before the baby was born, I was referring to everything that happened to Heather as WE or OUR. So WE quit smoking. OUR social life changed. WE had gestational diabetes. OUR uterus was looking great. I never thought I would ever write that last sentence. So we were being induced. Easier said than done. You can book when you want to be admitted to the hospital, but then have to play a waiting game. The hospital will phone you and let you know when. Which is torture. Heather, it turns out, not into torture. She jumps on the phone and has an EXPLOSION. I am dubbing these moments from here on out as EXPLOSIONS. You have to imagine that word being screamed by a soccer commentator. Got it? There you go.

The issue was this. The average pregnancy is 40 weeks. After 40 weeks they watch you very closely as the placenta (what gives your baby everything it needs inside) starts to slow down eventaully stopping. Not good. For someone with gestational diabetes, 40 weeks is really 38 weeks. Due to the placenta working harder during the pregnancy, it tends to crap out earlier. We were at 39 1/2 weeks. It was time. No phone call from the hospital, hence the EXPLOSION. Wednesday came and went. No call. Thurs morn was just about over when the phone rang. All smiles from Heather. We are off to the races.

Now let's talk about the hospital bag. It does not have to be huge. 1)I suggest bathing suits for both of you, in case you want to shower during active labour. 2)Diapers. The hospital only supplied 6 and gave me a lot of grief when asking for more. Bring atleast 20 newborn diapers. You may be there for awhile. 3)Wipes. Lots of wipes. Those first couple of poops are thicker than roof tar. Here is a trick, bring some olive oil for your baby's arse. When that meconium crap comes out, you want a lubed butt. 4)Clothes for you and baby. Grandma bought a fantastic "coming home" outfit but it ended up too big. 5)Treats. For mom and dad.

Now back to story. Grab the bag and get Preggo, my pet name for Heather for 9 months, to the hospital. We arrived expecting a fast and furious ordeal. That would be saved for a later date. They inserted the Cervidil (a vaginal insert to soften and prepare the cervix for birth). All of Thursday. Nothing. Friday rolls around. The nurses check. Nothing. They insert some more Cervidil. I tell Heather that I am going home for a nap because the doctor says it could take 10 days sometimes (WTF). My head hits the pillow at home and my phone vibrates beside me. I squint and see the text "get back here now". Oh shit! I rush back to the hospital to find Heather experiencing some very uncomfortable labour pains.

In the next three hours Heather bends over the bed, sits on the exercise ball, takes a shower in her gown and finally decides, it is drug time. Morphine and Gravol please. Before the drugs can take effect, they move us to labour and delivery. The nurse offers Heather some Nitrous. What would come next would be the opposite of an EXPLOSION. It would be the end of One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest. Stoned out of her tree, Heather would only put together moans for the next hour.

So the next part goes pretty quick. They checked her out and she was at 2cm. 15 min later, the doctor would come in to check. She is at 4cm. Doctor leaves to find the epidural dude. Water breaks. They check her and she is at 8cm. No time for love Dr. Jones, you are having a baby. Heather yells my full name at me. I might have pissed myself. Very scary. Heather yells for the nurse to clear off her, um, bottom. The nurse says 'that's not poop, that is a baby" (WTF). Doctor is not present. Nurse yells at me to grab a leg and help. I jump in. 9 pushes.

The next event is one of the greatest things you will ever experience in your life.
First kiss. First intercourse. First homerun. First promotion. Maybe put them all together. My daughter is the greatest accomplishment EVER. I cried. I took pictures. I cried some more. I took some more pictures. Greatest day. Nothing can really prepare you for it. It is an amazing event. Being adopted, I just met my only known blood relative.

Quinn Ellen Hayes Andrews was born 9:46pm PST on Friday June 18th, 2010 and this is her story.