Finally, something worth writing about!

As many of you may know, Angela gave birth to our “little” girl, Audrey Rose Georges, on Friday, May 13^th, 2005.

Wow, where to begin…

Thursday May 12^th rolled around and there were almost no signs that Audrey was coming anytime soon, so I was at work, figuring I had another weekend to get the house ready and do chores before the little bundle of joy arrived.  My cell phone rang and I didn’t think much of it-I knew Angela had been to the doctor that morning and I assumed we would have to wait until next week to have the baby.  However, my premonition had been that the 13^th would be the day, and I was right.

“Come home, we’re going to the hospital,” Angela said.  I told my boss and sped off.  Fugazi’s album “13 Songs” was playing in my truck when I started it up, featuring the songs “Waiting Room”(“sitting in the waiting room! A-ha!”) and “Badmouth” (“you can’t be what you were.  So you better start being just what you are”).  Very appropriate. 

THE BAD NEWS

The birth process takes a LONG time.  And for all you fools even considering doing natural birth, it may take quite a while longer.  The first 18 hours at the hospital sucked so much ass that words cannot even describe.  First we waited for about 6 hours in a tiny hospital room while the baby was monitored.  Apparently it was a very busy day and there were a lot of births going on so we had to wait for a big room.  So we sat there and watched TV, which doesn’t sound so bad except that we were kinda hoping to have a baby sometime soon.  They gave Angela some medication to thin her cervix, and then, around 10 P.M. the contractions began.  Angela described them as like menstrual cramps.  Now, obviously I’ve never had cramps, but I’ve been around women who are having them and from what I hear they are pretty painful.  As the night wore on the contractions got worse and worse.  By about 3 in the morning they moved us into the larger “birthing” room, and Angela was in so much pain she couldn’t sleep at all.  Every 5 minutes or so her face would contort, she would curl into a ball, grip the bed rail and moan.  Then she started throwing up at the end of every contraction, probably due to pain and anxiety.  And I couldn’t do a thing but feed her ice and cry.  Honestly, it was the most awful few hours of my life.  The nurses were waiting for a doctor to arrive with the morning shift, so they couldn’t give her an epidural yet.  They gave her some narcotics and some anti-nausea medicine, which didn’t help one fucking bit.  Finally, at about 8:15 A.M. I went out to the nurse’s station and demanded they get a doctor and give her the epidural RIGHT NOW.  Within an hour Angela had received the epidural and was feeling pretty good.  She still had pain in one area of her pelvis, so they increased the epidural dose and it was smooth sailing from there.  Three painless hours later she was fully dialated and ready to push.  About 8-10 contractions and 15 minutes of pushing later and Baby Audrey came shooting out, covered in blood and wailing like a banshee.

THE GOOD NEWS

For the most part, all the hospital staff at Northside were excellent.  Birth is an EXTREMELY gory and messy affair.  Blood, fluids, and unidentifiable liquids abound.  Plus, seeing a tiny, misshapen head emerge from your wife’s private-ist of privates is really weird, to say the least.  That all said, I didn’t really even notice it.  Some folks say, “Oh golly!  Watching the epidural go in is horrible!  You may feint!”.  Bullshit.  If you have any human decency at all you will be far too focused on your wife to even notice how much of a pansy you are compared to her.

HERE COMES THE MUSHY PART

I know you’ve heard all the clichés before.  How great it is, how much you’ll love the baby, etc.  Well, let me tell you, they’re all true, times about 100 billion-million.  The whole process was probably the most extremely emotional experience of my entire life. 

I have a new-found respect for how tough Angela can be-she was nothing short of amazing through the entire ordeal: the pain & nausea of contractions, the effort of pushing, the frustration of sleeplessness and the difficulty teaching both herself and Audrey to breastfeed.  I can only imagine how hard it must have been, and she continues to impress and surprise me with her resilience (hey Angela, my birthday’s coming up soon and I sure would like…just kidding).

Our families and friends have been beyond great.  The whole experience has just brought out so much love and concern and caring from people, I am reminded of how truly lucky I am.  Thank you everyone.

Audrey is awesome.  Since I first saw her, covered in slimy blood, I loved her like nothing else.  On a strictly objective note, she is a good-looking baby.  In my years of baby-sitting I’ve seen ugly babies, especially newborns which can be hairy, blotchy, yellowish, have misshapen heads, etc.  Audrey is proportionate, pink and cute as a button.  Of course, to me, she is the most beautiful thing ever.  I love just holding her in my hands and looking in her eyes, kissing her fat cheeks, or playing with her tiny tiny toes.  Sometimes, just thinking about her makes me cry.  I would kill every ninja on earth to protect her, if I had to (note to ninjas: I’m fucking serious.  Don’t try me).  I will resort to all manner of inane sounds or conversations to keep her from crying.  I worry about her all the time.  If she’s sleeping, often I’ll poke her a little just to make sure she’s still alive. I will gladly put aside my own feelings to help her and not think a thing about it.  She is truly wonderful. 

I’ll stop right there.

Of course, life has been insane since she was born, but I can’t wait until she can talk and asks Daddy for her first Mohawk.  Then the real fun begins…