Adventures in Fatherhood: A Diary of My Second Daughter’s Birth

Note – We recently celebrated my second daughter’s birthday; I figured that it made sense to clean-up and port over this running diary of my daughter’s birth. This post was one of the most read items on my old site.

Originally posted March 4, 2007

8:40 AM –  My wife and I are on the way to the hospital. In an effort to make small talk, I mention my dislike of hospitals. Wifey (who’s already in a bad mood) turns to me and initiates the following exchange:

Wife – “We need to talk about this complaining of yours.”

Me – “What complaining? I just said that I didn’t like hospitals.”

Wife – “Look. you just need to stop because your part in the day is pretty insignificant compared to mine.”

Me – “Since it’s so insignificant, how ‘bout I drop you off at the curb and you can have the baby yourself.”

Ok, I didn’t say the last part. Instead, I drove in silence the rest of the way to the hospital. Great start to the morning.

10:00 AM – We’re situated in the room. The wife has to use the restroom, so I take the opportunity to let my parents know that we’re at the hospital. Unfortunately, I have to leave the delivery area to get a signal. When I return, I get the third degree from a nurse because I don’t have a visitor’s badge.

Nurse – “May I help you”

Me – “Um, no I’m ok, I’m just going back to the room with my wife.”

Nurse – “Where’s your visitors badge?”

Me (Thinking) – “(W)itch, you saw me here an hour ago, when you were too busy gossiping with your co-workers to give me a badge. Don’t trip now that your boss is around. You are messing with the wrong black man this morning.”

Me (Said) – “I didn’t get one when my wife and I signed in. What do I need to do to get one?”

The nurse spends a few minutes verifying that my wife is at the hospital before finally giving me a badge and instructing me to put it on and wear it at all times (like I’m a 4 year old). I make a mental note to make up some good lies to tell the head supervisor about the nurse.

10:30 AM – My wife has to use the restroom again. She says that she hates having to go to the bathroom all the time. I tell her to stop complaining.

(If you’re keeping score, that’s My Wife 1, Me 1)

11:00 AM – My wife is starting to shake a little bit (the contractions are starting to get stronger). Actually, shake might be an understatement. She could have given Shakira a run for her money. Hips don’t lie indeed. We must be getting close.

12:45 PM – Wife wants to listen to Enya. Great. Seeing that she’s the one having the baby, I begrudgingly put the disc in the CD player.

Quick aside: Yes, our room has a CD player. That was pretty cool, until you consider what it costs to have a baby. They could have saved on the CD player and cut a few hundred bones on the hospital fee.

1:00 PM – The nurse just came in and readjusted the bed for my wife. These hospital beds are pretty sweet; they could use one of these as a new Autobot for this summers’ Transformers movie¹. Seriously, the bed shifts from a bed to a day bed to a lazy-boy recliner. Next week, I’m planning to buy one for my home office².

1:10 PM – A new nurse arrives to set up the delivery table. She mentions that she loves the CD.

Quick aside: The stuff on the delivery table looks like it comes from Burke’s travel kit in 24³ (Burke is the guy that helps Jack Bauer with torturing criminals/family members/ex-husbands of his girlfriends). If it were me, I’d put my pants back on and tell the doctors that they can stick that stuff where the sun don’t shine. Of course, this is why women have babies and men don’t.

1:15 PM – The wife reminds me to look at the cheatsheet that she put together for me in preparation for the birth of our first daughter. I haven’t looked at this thing in 18 months (I actually forgot that she put it together for me when we had our first child).

1:17 PM – Oops… looks like I’m supposed to be saying words of encouragement and rubbing her back instead of typing on my Treo⁴. I immediately tell her that she’s doing a great job. I then go back to typing on the Treo.

Another quick aside: What happened to Jack’s Treo? Did Palm not pony up the cash to market the Treo in 24 this season? That stinks. It’s hard enough to believe that Jack can use any device to download blueprints (to every building ever constructed), listen to all types of encrypted audio , view government databases, and retrieve satellite information (without ever switching batteries)… but to think that he can do this with an el cheapo candy bar phone from Sprint? No bleeping way.

1:25 PM – Doc shows back up. She gives my wife a quick check then leaves – but not before asking about the CD and commenting on how great it is.

Wife 3, Me 1

1:27 PM – The doctor and nurse leave to grab a bite to eat (because they think that my wife has a ways to go).

1:33 PM – My wife feels like she needs to use the bathroom – in other words, baby #2 is on the way (so much for “having a ways to go”). Gametime.

Except that we can’t find the doctor. Where the freak is the doctor?

1:34 PM – She’s pushing. We can’t find our nurse or doctor and we can’t find the call button (we later find it underneath the sheets).

So, I run out and find the first guy I see. He’s got scrubs on, so either he’s a doctor or a janitor. 50% odds… I can live with that. I give him a 10 second rundown (wife – pushing; doc and nurse – MIA; husband – scared sh*tless). Dr. Janitor comes in, looks at my wife, asks who our doctor is, and runs off.

A minute later, our doctor and nurse arrive. Doc takes a peek below and sees that the baby is coming. With no time for gloves, Doc jumps in and gets to work (talk about raw dog). The nurse asks me to hold my wife’s legs up (so much for playing an insignificant part in the delivery) because we didn’t get a chance to set the Autobot bed up for delivery. Thirty seconds later, daughter number two is here.

1:40 PM – The second nurse shows up… slacker. Not only did she miss the fireworks, she starts talking about how great the Enya CD is. “Oh, sorry I missed helping you deliver the baby; I was eating a tangerine salad from the cafeteria. Looks like everything worked out ok, so no hard feelings. By the way, I love this CD. Is it Enya?”

1:41 PM – My daughter to stop crying long enough to tell me that she wants to change her name to Enya Johnson⁵.

Final verdict – 7 lbs, d oz. 19 inches. 1 close case of a heart attack (mine) and 3 mentions of how great the Enya CD is.

I really don’t like Enya… but I guess I should stop complaining.

1. This was before I realized what a cluster Michael Bay was making.
2. 9 years later – no Optimus Prime bed in the house.
3. 9 years later, and 24 is still somewhat relevant. Great tv show.
4. Pouring out a little for the homies that ain’t here no more – RIP Palm
5. Ok, that didn’t happen.