Here we go! Part Two

You know the scenes in some movies when time slows down during a spectacular, sometimes life-changing event? It usually happens in the middle of a hectic situation like a chase scene when someone leaps from a roof, or a romantic bit when two people fall in love simply by looking into each other's eyes. Well that didn't happen here.

The scene during Olive's birth seemed to speed up.

I remember I was vocalizing everything I could think of to keep the tears from streaming down Tricia's face. I was watching the arms of the doctors and nurses work feverishly to finish the surgery successfully. I was listening to the spitting and hissing sounds of the medical tools. Like a pulse I was feeling the grip of Tricia's hand loosen, then tighten, then loosen, then tighten again.

Everything was happening so fast. All of a sudden the cry of a baby filled the room. I jerked my head in its direction. I saw giant hands pulling a tiny person from the belly of my wife.

All of a sudden the nurses had my baby on a table in the far corner of the room.

Crying still filled the room. I was ushered in its direction. There she was. I finally knew for sure that my child was a girl. Olive was laying there writhing in discomfort, punching and kicking the air. Olive was pissed off.

I was asked if I wanted to cut a piece of the umbilical cord. I shook my head and was handed fancy surgical scissors. The nurses pointed to the area where I was to cut. I placed the scissors on the exact spot and squeezed. I squeezed like a man... a man that has never used scissors. That first cut was surprisingly weak. I had to reset and try again. That experience made me feel like I ruined the cut.

"Did I do it right?" I asked jokingly, but embarrassingly as well.

The nurse said, "You did fine, Dad."

Dad. Daddy. Daddio? Nah, Dad would do. I couldn't believe it. The nurses had swaddled Olive up and gave her back to me so that I could introduce her to Tricia. The tears in Tricia's eyes carried a different weight. These were happy tears. Olive was beautiful just like her mother.

I felt so lucky.

Then I was rushed out of the operating room so that the doctors could finish the surgery. I didn't get to see Tricia again for a few hours.

I was led to the nursery where I spent a lot of time watching Olive slowly take in her surroundings. I talked to her. I held her hands. I touched her toes.

In our parenting classes we were told that skin-to-skin contact with the mother was very important for the newborn to develop a bond. We were also told that in the case of a C-section the father should step in and request skin-to-skin time since the mother wouldn't be allowed to.

So I did. Tricia's mom, my mom, Tricia's grandmother and Tricia's brother must have thought I'd gone crazy when I removed my shirt. I was behind the glass in the nursery while they were out in the hall. We couldn't talk to each other so I decided to play the part. I started flexing like a competitive weight lifter. Now they really thought I was crazy.

The nurse led me to a chair and handed Olive to me. I placed her naked body on my chest and wrapped the flaps of my flannel around her back and then placed a blanket on top. She fell asleep.

We sat there for almost 30 minutes. I knew it was going to end, because the nurse was finishing up with another newborn. That's when I felt it. Olive farted.

Then my stomach got warm.

"... um... nurse? I think she just peed on me."

The nurse looked confused. "Really?" she said.

When she helped me remove the blanket and pull Olive away I realized I was mistaken. It wasn't pee. The nurse admitted she had forgot to put a diaper on her.

That's OK, I believe Olive and I bonded that day.

Later, we finally got to see Tricia. Olive fell asleep on her chest and the family stayed for a little while. Then everyone was gone. Just the three of us occupied the room. Me and my family. The feeling was great and the challenge had started. I had been waiting for this moment and I felt ready.


Life will be good.