Today you are exactly six weeks old. You are celebrating by screaming, crying, and pooping your pants. It's pretty freaking adorable, especially considering your mommy gave me a pass to come upstairs and blog about you.
My last letter to you was written hours before your mommy and I went to the hospital, now seven Tuesdays ago. We woke up at 3:30 a.m. that morning and got ready to leave coupledom behind, and begin a new chapter as a family. With you! Your Pops graciously came over to take pictures of the occasion.
We got to the hospital and checked in at 5:00 a.m. There is a lot of paperwork involved in bringing a new person into the world, and we sleepily filled that out while waiting for the nurse to come see your mommy. We didn't know it at the time, but "waiting" would become the theme for the day. Around 7:00 a.m., they set your mom up with an IV, and began giving her medication that would induce labor. Around 7:30 a.m., Dr. Simmons came in and introduced himself to me, and we all prayed together. Then he broke your mom's water, and we were off!
Except we really didn't go anywhere. Things happened pretty slowly. Truth be told, we just watched a lot of bad daytime television. We had a few visitors. You received a few gifts. The hours languished by without anything really happening. Your mom was a trooper as her discomfort increased in the afternoon hours. Her labor went from being very passive to something that we were all definitely aware of. She was working! And it was hurting! Finally, around 5:00 or 6:00, after finding out that she was the lone remaining holdout without an epidural, her nurse Karen convinced your mom to take some relief. Once your mom's pain subsided and she was able to relax a bit, things started happening more quickly.
Your Uncle Bryant brought your dad some dinner around 9:00, and I stepped out into the waiting room to eat and visit with family and friends. When the gaggle of females who were visiting with your mom returned, they sent me in a rush back to the labor and delivery suite with the news that it was almost time for Stephanie to push!
Almost time.
When I got back, I encountered a different version of your mom than I had seen all day. She was in a great amount of discomfort, and I could tell she was a little scared. The nurse checked her out and told us that you were turned "sunny-side up", which means that you were looking up at the sky, instead of face-down like most babies. You still like to look up at the sky!
Your mom was in so much pain that she thought she wanted to push, but it turned out she just wasn't ready. Try as she might, she could not get you to a position where you would be able to make it out. She was so exhausted at this point that she was convinced she wouldn't be able to deliver you, but the nurses and Dr. Simmons asked her to give it one more try. Like the tough momma that she is, she gave it her best, but you just wouldn't come down, Cooper! Dr. Simmons reluctantly decided that he would have to deliver you via Cesarean delivery.
Well, LW, I can tell you that I have been in some lonely places before. I got stranded on the beach in a storm once, and that was very lonely and scary. And I felt soooo alone during my first night in my upstairs bedroom away from my mom and dad when I was a little boy. But I have never felt more alone than I did when I was sitting outside the operating room while they prepared your mom for surgery. A cold, sterile hallway, left alone to me and my thoughts. I was terrified.
Finally, you were prepped and the nurse came and got me. A partition had been set up, and I was seated behind it, beside your mommy's head. I could look at her and talk to her and hold her hand, but her belly was hidden from view. Dr. Simmons began working, and I worked to, trying to keep your mom and myself calm as everyone did their part to get you out.
Everything seemed to be going as it was supposed to go. Because these things, when they FINALLY come, seem to happen in an instant, we very quickly got to the climactic moment. The anesthesiologist, behind the curtain with me and your mom, motioned for me to stand up and watch as Dr. Simmons extracted you from your mom's uterus. Of course I did. I was so excited!
Dr. Simmons reached into your mom's belly and pulled...and nothing happened. He pulled again, grunting with exertion this time. Nothing happened.
I sat back down in order to keep an eye on your mom. I assume they were widening the abdominal incision on your mom, but I'm not sure. I do know that Dr. Simmons tried once more to pull you out, and was unable to. At this point, he asked the nurse for forceps. I have NEVER heard of using forceps in a c-section. I'm not even sure they were prepped. Anyway, I'll never forget what I heard next.
The nurse asked Dr. Simmons what size. And he replied "Whatever size you can get QUICKLY!"
She retrieved them, QUICKLY, and he fit them around your head and pulled and pulled, and finally was able to get your noggin out of your mom's belly. But just your noggin. The rest of you was still stuck, but I could finally see your beautiful head. Your big, fat beautiful head.
Do you want to know your daddy's first words to your mommy when he finally saw you for the first time?
It's not recorded or anything, but I'm pretty sure I said "Oh my God, Stephanie, I am sooooo sorry. It's all my fault. His head is gigantic!"
So there you have it.
Dr. Simmons managed to pull the rest of you out, and everyone in the room gasped. Your head wasn't the only big thing on you. EVERY part of you was huge! But there was one last surprise.
There was a knot in your umbilical cord. What the doctors and nurses called a "true knot". I looked it up, and it apparently happens in less than 1% of babies. It can be extremely dangerous, and makes me so grateful that your mom didn't continue to keep trying to push you out. If that cord pulled taut before you were out, it could have gotten very bad for you, LW. We thank God for how things worked out every day.
They rushed you over to a table to start cleaning you up, and I stared after you, intent on soaking up every detail. Finally, I was able to come over and see you. I had my iphone and a digital camera. One of the nurses graciously commandeered the camera and started snapping.
Everyone remarked how big you were, and I commented that I was 10 lbs at birth. They assured me that you were big, but not 10 lbs big. Probably close to nine. Finally, they put you on the scale....
10 lbs 6 oz!!! Can you believe that. You were huge, baby boy! 22.5 inches long, as well. No wonder your mom had been so uncomfortable for the past few weeks. She had a two month old inside her!
As they finished cleaning you and were preparing you for me to hold for the first time ever, I snapped a picture and got off a facebook post with your information. To this day, I get chided about that, but I cannot think of a BETTER application for new media.
Finally, after a 20 hour day, your mom was able to look into your eyes and tell you that she loves you. She hasn't stopped saying it since.
At some point, we were transferred back to the labor and delivery suite. Dr. Simmons went outside to visit the family and inform them everything went well. He told them that you had the broadest shoulders of any baby he had ever delivered, and that we should contact Coach Petrino in Fayetteville immediately to set up a scholarship for you in his 2028 recruiting class. That's my boy! We love Dr. Simmons!
Cooper, your dad was so exhausted at this point that it's impossible for him to write intelligently about what happened. It honestly is all a fog. I can promise, however, that you were surrounded with love. The love and support that your mom and I have received from our families from the moment you were born, and every moment since, has been such a blessing to us. We have been able to enjoy all the intense joys of being new parents, with very few of the obstacles. For that, your parents are both very humbled and very thankful. We know you're thankful, too.
So that's the story of your birth, LW. What do you think? Pretty cool, huh? The crazy thing is, as amazing and incredible as the story of your birth is, you never fail to amaze us in a new way every single day. And as your daddy and your Big Wooly, I knew that would happen, and yet it still floors me every single day.
Just what will you do tomorrow? I can't wait to find out!
I love you,
BW
