An old friend of Hubs just became a dad. Antony is hilarious, a teacher, and one of EB’s life coaches. I asked for their birth story to add to my collection, and AC (this is actually what we call him and not just my go-to for anonymity for friends on the blog unless they give me permission otherwise) sent me what he wrote as an example for a class project involving story boards. In his words, “We are masting plot organization and elements in class so I used it a) to answer their questions without having to have a full blown Q&A and b) to use their interest to engage them in this skill.” Well done, sir. I’m pumped about having my first dad’s version of a birth story on ISWTG! I’m also including the picture of the baby blanket I sent them – just in time for MJ’s birth! My notes are in green ~Jells
A Wild Day, and Night
It was 3 am lying in bed at my house early Saturday morning September 14th, I, Mr. Campagna, heard Mrs. Campagna groaning like she was in pain. This was not unusual, because Mrs. Campagna, my wife, was in the ninth month of her pregnancy with our first child, a boy who could come at any time. The baby was now, like Campagnas always are, late. We were eager to be parents, but all we asked for was a smooth delivery and a healthy baby. I asked Mrs. Campagna if she was okay and she replied, “My stomach hurts but it is no big deal. We should try to go back to bed.” I thought nothing of it other than the thought that pregnancy does not seem to be much fun and turned over to go back to sleep. [Ha!]
Hearing my wife heading back and forth from the restroom at 6 am I could tell she was not just having regular stomach aches, although she was not willing to disclose it to me. At that very moment I had a revelation, this boy was saying, “Ready or nooot…here I cooome.”
Mrs. Campagna got on the phone to talk to an emergency pregnancy nurse. The nurse said that if the pains continue for over an hour we would have to go to the hospital. The thing was, she had already been having these pains every 5 minutes for 2 straight hours. Yup, it was time to make our way to the car. [That poor gal. She really would act like everything was fine.] I fed Maddie and Lomez and let them out one last time; who knows how long we could be gone. I seized our pre-packed hospital luggage and darted out the front door at 8 am.
Bumps, nudges and cars zigging-and-zagging making me jerk the car and hurting my wife more and more with each small knock in the road. We arrive at the hospital and I drop Mrs. C off at the emergency entrance where someone takes her in a wheelchair to get checked-out. By the time I park the car head into the large medical building, heart racing, I find the soon-to-be-mom lying in a small room with wires connected all over her body. 10 minutes go by and suddenly she thinks its time to go to the restroom, only it’s not the restroom, its her water that has broken. Yup, we’ll be here for a while.
Although she is definitely in labor, she is nowhere near ready to deliver the baby. The Nurse says it could be 8 – 20 hours before it would happen. Contractions, pain, grimacing, breathing, pain and more pain all take place for 12 more hours until the nurse finally says its time to push. She also says, “it’s time to push but this could take two more hours so don’t get too excited.” Pushing, “2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10 and breath” for two straight hours we work to bring our son out of his nine month resting spot. This was a very strenuous and stressful time for the mama. After two hours go by the doctor shuffles in to the room and takes a few looks, “Mommy, you really, really tried hard and you did awesome, but this baby is face up, he should be face down and he won’t come out without our help, we need to rush you to operate.” [Bummer! And the tone of this story, for kids, is really tickling me.]
I have to quickly change into medical smocks and put on a mask and hairnet, plus scrub my hands for 3 minutes before going into the operating room. They roll Mrs. Campagna in to the very cold room and begin connecting more tubes and wires. They put up an immense light blue sheet in front of me and get to work. Seconds feel like hours and minutes nearly feel like days. We sit and wait for the doctors to tell us something good. Waiting…waiting… waiting …until, “Waaa,! Waaaa,! Waaaa!” “Congratulations you new proud parents,” we hear from over the sheet. I look at Mrs. Campagna and she is tired, but elated. She has tears of joy in her eyes and you know what, I do too. Our son, Michael-Joseph Frank Campagna, is finally here. I can’t wait to show him all that I know and teach him everything my parents taught me with my wife and partner in “parent-ship”. [I love how you just breeze over the whole labor and C-section details…and I understand that might be a little…*touchy* to share with kiddos in a classroom setting. But I want more details!]
Mrs. Campagna takes a while to get ready to go back to the room as the doctors stitch her back together. Finally we are ready to go back to the room. All of our family is there, both Abuelitas, grandmothers, the grandfather, Aunts, Uncles and very close friends. Everyone is jubilant that a new member of our family has joined us to share our world and create new memories. All we desired was a smooth delivery and a healthy baby, but after all the events of today and tonight, I suspend all thoughts of caring about a smooth delivery; the healthy beautiful boy in my arms is all I ever really needed. [Congrats, friends! I wish we could have been there. He really is a beaut. I bet he’s going to be just as sarcastic and funny as AC is, but as loving and sweet as Mama. Can’t wait to come visit!]