EEK part I

Ezekiel Edwin K - born 8/5/11 at 8:56am.

Howdy blogosphere. This is not Amy. This is Jon A.K.A Beefygeek (maybe 3 years ago) A.K.A The Sound Dude and the most recent and my favorite, dad. :)

Amy and Zeke are doing awesome. We are home. I took a week off of work to take care of them and commandeer Amy's blog, unbeknownst to her. Shh... I want this to be a surprise to her.

So it's Thursday and I work in Tech Support. It's not a great job but it pays the bills and fills bellys. (Bellies?) The car I usually take had a slight exhaust malfunction and sounds like a rocket ship so Amy's been driving me to work.

-Man, this blog stuff is harder than I though.-

Amy comes to pick me up and hands me a piece of paper. It's a mess of times, minutes and brackets. I look at her and she has a HUGE smile on her face. Her contractions aren't consistent yet but they are regular.

Game time.

Before I go on with the shenanigans and tomfoolery, I'll go off on a rabbit trail and say that I am a Bradley dad. For those of you who aren't sure what that is, it's a... I guess...method? used in which the father is present during birth and the main coach for the wife. The tagline (if it were a movie) is Husband Coached Natural Childbirth.

So while Hollywood dictates that would-be fathers should be useless, catatonic sperm donors or raving-lunatics-who-forget-the-keys-yelling-at-anyone-within-earshot-to-get-some-hot-water, the Bradley instruction we got was kicking in.

Okay, rabbit trail over. Back to it.

I was excited and not just because I'd have a week off to spend with Amy but because... I have a legit reason for not showing up to work on Friday.

My brain is still in tech support mode. "What about all those appointments for Friday I just scheduled with clients?" WHO CARES!? YOUR WIFE IS HAVING A BABY!

I asked Amy if she thought he'd be coming sometime this weekend. Her jaw dropped slightly and said, "I think he's going to be here tonight."

We get home (the nice thing about work is that it's a 10 minute commute if their is a snow storm, 5 minute commute otherwise) and I ask Amy if she got stuff off our checklist. She shows me the bags she's already packed with all our stuff. Man, my wife is GOOD.

After calling the midwife, we labor at home for a few more hours, watching episodes of Prison Break on Netflix (people have been telling me to watch this show for 6 years. Well.. here it is Brian, you're right, the show is incredible). The contractions get a little more intense each time and I can tell Amy is astounded by how powerful they are.

After finding out that (spoiler warning) Lincoln Burroughs is actually NOT going to get executed 9 episodes into season one, we decide to try and get some sleep.

I'm woken up by Amy telling me that her contractions are fairly intense and she's crying. I scramble for a second, waking up from a prison break dream of my own and call the midwife, telling her that I think it's show time.

We drive to the hospital and arrive around 1am. Amy's contractions have slowed down and we find out she's only 4cm dilated. Close, but not enough for us to be admitted yet. We stay in the triage room that's filled with the womp womp womp of other fetal heart beat monitors.

Labor walk around the halls for an hour to 6 cm and we get admitted!

While we are laboring, we hear a male voice from one of the rooms saying "Help! Help!" and then this shrieking of a woman saying "I HAVE TO PUSH! SOMEONE HELP ME! HELP ME!"

The nursing station empties and paperwork halted as the turquoise shirts and Caitlyn book it into the room with the woman screaming. As soon as Caitlyn gets in she yells "YOU CAN DO THIS!" over the yells and moans of the woman.

Oh. My. Goodness. It sounded like a horror movie.

I have a feeling we looked amazing, huddled together like a pair of lost puppies in the middle of the now empty maternity ward hallway

We look at each other, wide eyed, jaws probably slightly dropped and slowly tip toed the other way.

At one time while we were labor walking, Amy heard on the PA that someone was requesting an Epidural. Amy started crying saying she didn't want an epidural. We both agree she was probably in transition at this point.

The jig is up, Amy just woke up and passed by the computer while I was getting laundry so the surprise is over. Anyways, look for part II in the near future.