Sleep deprivation was setting in. Adrenaline was running at an all-time high. Worry and anxiety were shown on my face.
My first and only son was coming this day a year ago. We found out at about 11:00 the night before, and went to the hospital to get checked out. They said Rebecca was close enough and that they would like to keep us there over night. Translation: get 1.5 hours of sleep for one of the biggest days of your life.
Things progressed nicely the next day, and it was time to get the epidural for my sweet wife. From that point on, the day was almost a blur. I remember talking to some family and I remember studying that monitor for my boy's heartbeat, as well as his mother's, closely.
The doctor comes in, checks Rebecca out and discovers that Alan's cord is wrapped around his neck. This was the culprit of the low heart beat every time a contraction came. With some medical maneuvering, they were able to fix the heart rate dropping issue, and therefore, eased my mind a bit.
Only a couple of hours after that, we met Alan. Our sweet, wonderful Alan! He was there...right there in front of both of us. He was crying, which we knew was good, and then they took him from us. He was put under the heat lamp as they examined him. I rushed over there to see what all of the fuss was about. The doctors were worried at his sluggishness. He was quite lethargic for the first few minutes after he was born. Come to find out, the little thing was just worn out. That labor had been tough on him, and he needed to rest.
When we finally held him in our arms...in the silence and solitude of our hospital room...we realized that all of this ordeal was totally worth it. To see this little life there in our arms...to hear his little coos and grunts...it melted us, both of us.
