The Playpen

You know, there are a lot of articles, resources and links these days for expectant mothers, new mothers, old mothers, you name it. One of the things I realized when my daughter, Frankie, was born eight weeks prematurely was that there weren’t many resources available to dads. Even the books for new dads are all about how to keep your wife happy. What’s the deal with that?

So I decided to make this the focus of my first post. I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t know (still don’t know, come to think of it) the first thing about parenting. This is not a “how to” article by any stretch of the imagination. Its simply me, a young dad, looking to get some thoughts out there and maybe provide a little comic relief to other dads at the same time.

As I mentioned, my daughter was (is) a preemie. And she was little….real little. My wife had an emergency C-section after some difficulties with her pregnancy. Lets start there. Going through that process was no picnic. Getting your thoughts in order is virtually impossible. “What if my kid isn’t ok?”, “What if something happens to my wife?”, “How come that doctor over there looks unsure of himself?” “I didn’t paint the nursery yet!” “There’s a LOT of equipment in here…this is going to cost a TON.”

So you’re dealing with that side of things while at the same time trying to provide reassurance to mom who, yes its true, is freaking out worse than you. Not an easy situation. As I was sorting all that out, and as I was sitting in the Operating Room, I made the biggest mistake of my life.

“Do you want to see your new daughter?”, my wife’s doctor asked me, apparently completely unaware that I was about two seconds shy of a heart attack.

“YEAH”, I said, and stood up from my stool, eagerly peering over the sheet that was placed over my wife’s mid-section.

Looking back on this now, its crystal clear to me that the sheet was there for a reason. New dads, exhausted from sleep deprivation, starving and dehydrated, are NOT meant to see whats on the other side of that sheet. Remember the scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark where the guys face melted off? Pretty terrible right? Not…..even….close. The reason doctors make so much money is because they have to see things that most of us, especially guys, are NOT prepared to see. Most of my daughter’s delivery is a blur. Not that moment.

I quickly sat right back down on my stool. OK. I saw what I saw. Too late to do anything about it now. My mind raced and the room spun. I was losing it fast. My poor wife was being a trooper. Her doctor was working with a cool efficiency that I will never forget (I think in some way I fell in love with her that night). The anesthesiologist was cupping her face in his hands and looking into her eyes, offering reassurance. At one point I think I heard Aline’s doctor say “Oops,” but I wasn’t sure.

The next thing I knew, Frankie, my baby girl, was being lifted from my wife’s belly. Yes she was blue (which they don’t tell you ahead of time, by the way), but she was beautiful. My eyes welled up as I watched my wife, medicated and exhausted utter the words “my beautiful baby,” kissing Frankie in the nurse’s arms. A moment that no man, no dad, will ever forget. Its the moment that sees me through the fights, the tantrums, the family problems, everything. It’s what I live for.

I was shuffled over to a brightly lit table with various dangerous-looking medical instruments on it. My wife peered at me, bleary-eyed from the operating table. Again, the room spun.

“Do you want to cut the cord?”, the nurse asked me. I agreed, and picked up a pair of scissors that resembled something I had used to dissect a frog in seventh grade. “OK, cut right here…just do it quickly and don’t think about it.” I positioned the blades as precisely as I could, and begin to apply pressure.

….to be continued.

Matt
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