Random Thoughts

I am not planning on anything too profound this evening. Just a couple of thoughts. First: the gas strike that went on yesterday, or today, or tomorrow. Nobody seems to be in agreement. Perhaps that is part of the problem. Only a small part though. I spent all day yesterday arguing against the theory of this with my co-workers. (Kind of like discussing quantum physics with Emily.) I don't even own a car, but this whole concept is so frustrating. "Let's get back at the companies and send them a message that they can't dictate the price of gas on a whim. We will do this by avoiding buying gas on a single day. This will lose them 'X' dollars today and gain it for them tomorrow."

Even if we could hurt their pocket books, look at the common sense of the issue. If the complaint is them raising prices on a whim, why strike out at them? We still need the gas, and they know it. We hurt their pockets today, they raise the prices tomorrow and leave them that way. That's socking it to them.

On the point of emily, here she is: http://www.growingfamily.com/webnursery/babypage_view.asp?URLID=3M8U5F9L8F

I am sure there are other things going on in my mind, but as normal, they aren't coming out to play. So that's all of the window I give for now on my life, or something close to it.

Order Of Priorities

I should make it a point in the future to post first. Too often I read through all of my message boards first before posting and forget what I was going to say. This has happened again today. My apologies to you all who would have been much more enlightened had I posted before reading. You must make your way through the dark now. :)

My present state of sobriety might be an impact as well. A few too many at the bar across from work before catching the bus had enough effect for the opening up of my soul, but I read too much. Now I am left with a slightly increased inhibitive level while not having the mental faculties yet to sift through my thoughts and put them here. Maybe later.

In the meantime I will take the half step, (which is probably worthless over all) and say that I have considered acquiring Al-Anon (the group for family and friends of alcoholics) literature for my wife. No AA thoughts for myself yet. Stupid? Probably. That's life, or something close to it.

Adjusting

I am getting more used to the wonderful new addition to our family, and have adjusted some after my initial complaints. With some guidance and some intuition, the two of us are beginning to understand each other and I am seeing that I have something to offer after all. Even if it is in little things like a lap for her to sleep on for hours while I watched WPT. I would go into more. Much has revolved through my mind as far as what I have plans to comment on. However, my in-laws are taking advantage of visiting time with my wife and daughter, and I am doing what I didn't do last night, and won't for many nights to come. I am going to sleep.

You take the opportunities when you can. That's just life, or something close to it.

A Good Mood After A Long Day

Well, I am home again. Or at least at the house that I will call home for a little while. There are a lot of emotions going through me right now, and the only thing I can say with certainty is that this sucks. The emotion part that is.

I worked all day, gladly accepting the congratulations of my co-workers, and answering their questions about Emily, my wife, and myself while doing my best to still do my job. The whole time I missed Emily. In fact, I spent a considerable amount of time sending messages to my sister complaining that while so many people have taken pictures, I don't have any of them. I am not certain any of them have even been developed. Initially I deflected the jokes from the two ladies one of whom said I was an atypical father for not having pictures, and the other one that went far enough to say that I was a bad father for the same reason. I told them I was too busy enjoying my time with Emily to consider sharing her with them.

Unfortunately, their comments hit home. Not that I believe that I am really a bad father (I seem to have done it succesfully after all), nor would I argue that I am typical. Face it, I am not typical, the world has to deal with that. The comments hit home for a different reason. I would love to be able to show her off instead of just describing her. More importantly, I would love to have been able to stare at her all day while I sat at my desk. Unfortunately I only had my memory screens, which were functioning, but still were not as good as they could have been.

Eventually, after an eternity, I was on my way to the hospital. In no time I was flashing my little identity bracelet and headed up to the room. There I found my wife, but no baby. While my heart sunk for a moment, my wife was good enough to explain that the nurse had taken her for a walk around the floor to give her a moment's break. On cue, the nurse came right in, with my baby girl. I was even more impressed when, despite the fact that she came back to the room she left, and my wife was still there, she compared my bracelet to my daughter's before leaving her with me.

Emily was sleeping, as was Martha. I kept watch over the two. I wouldn't have impressed my Air Force mentors, having dozed off a couple of times myself, but every time that little girl squeaked or turned in her sleep, I was awake and watching her. When the nurse came in a bit later, she woke me up too. She seemed slightly alarmed that I appeared between her and the crib, (as was I) but she identified herself and showed her badge with a smile. Apparently she is familiar with catching dads asleep at the helm.

Unfortunately, the rest of the evening taught me a painful lesson. I am useless to this baby. At least by her side where I want to be. The only things I do for her are work and argue with the power company to keep the lights on. By her side I am no use at all. Not to her. Only to her mother when I hold her for a couple of minutes at a time to give Martha a rest. When she screams I can't do anything. I distract her for a minute or two, but she is already quick to glance, register, and go back to her angry little state. She sleeps or she eats. I can't feed her. All I can do is watch when she sleeps. Today she wanted to spend all of her time that she wasn't feeding sucking on something. She learned a new trick and that at least keeps her happy. When it is her mother's finger. Or mine.

This is supposed to be the part where I can help. This is what I had gotten myself all worked up for. Now that she is out, I am supposed to play a part. I am supposed to help. I am supposed to be useful. I'm not.

I spent all of this time preparing for all of the things I would teach her. I can't. She doesn't even understand that I am talking to her. Hell, she doesn't even understand that she has hands yet. I can hold her while she is asleep. She is beautiful when she is sleeping, and I lover her to pieces, but there is so much more that I want to do for her. I can't. When she awakes, and she is upset, I can't offer her anything but her mother.

The most I accomplished was getting her to quiet down for two minutes by dancing with her, ball room style around the room. Watching the world spin kept her amused for a moment, but it passed. Another time, for about the same span, she quieted down to listen to my heart beat. I fell in love with her all over again as I watched her, amazed. I explained that she had helped build that heart beat. That if she listened, she would hear a loud thump, then a much quieter one. The louder one was the beating that started when I met her mother. The softer one was echoing her much smaller heart and began when she was born. Wasted words. Wasted sentiment. She doesn't know what I said, or how I feel. I would say it again. I will waste many such words on her, but they don't do anything for her. Neither do I.

I know that time will pass. She will grow. Eventually she will understand who I am. She will understand what I am saying and how I feel, but Lady, this is so hard. Right now I am home alone, and she is with her mother and my mother. Both of them have something to offer her. Something I don't. It pains me to be away, but being there is only slightly better.

When she cries, her little jaw trembles in such a heartbreaking way, and the small part that I play is to hold her while she cries. To watch this and listen to my heart tear apart. If she cries, if she is upset, I am supposed to be able to do something about it. I just wish there was a connection. I wish she could understand that if she got the message to me that tearing the hospital apart brick by brick would make her happy I would do it. She doesn't understand though. She doesn't know how I can be of use to her. I don't know if I can hold out until she does.

I was planning on going out briefly tonight. Celebrating with a couple of the folks at the local bar that I have been known to hang out with. To bathe in their congratulations for a moment and celebrate this momentous gift in my life. I am not there though. The "local" bar is local to my home, not this house. The friend that I was supposed to go with is undoubtedly still asleep. A good thing for him too, since he got in late this afternoon and was going to sleep at around 7pm.

It is probably just as well that I am not there. While it is possible that the presence of excited friends in a rowdy atmosphere would have raised my spirits, it is equally likely that I would have just sunk into a more depressed state. Can't lower the morale at my own party, can I?

So instead, I pick the worst of both worlds. I am far away from Emily, watching Independance Day and drinking alone. I'll tell you how it works out. Sorry the normal enthusiasm is gone, but that's life, or something close to it.

Where Do I Begin?

An interesting title if I consider it for a moment. As those of you who know me well will understand, the question should be "Where do I finish?" Getting talking so rarely is the problem with me. Shutting me up is a different story.

The rune for today is Perth. Initiation. Attributed to awakening of psychic powers; reception of unforseen knowledge from afar; inspiration. I haven't been doing my rune for the day the last two days because I had more important things on my mind. Now that I am home, I decided to pull the next one and see what it would say. Once again, I can tie it into my thoughts for the day. For those of you familiar with the runes, tarot cards, the bible, or any similar concept, this shouldn't surprise you. They always speak to you a different way, and always in a manner that ties into your life.

Inspiration. That is definitely what I have. I have been staring at my new inspiration every moment that I have had to do so for the last two days. I knew, of course, that I was prepared for this. Just as obviously, I was wrong. Let's step back a bit, though, and I will fill you folks in a little on what happened. (Don't worry, I am only backpedaling a couple of days. No lurid details of how it all started. I am sure you folks took biology and know the basics.)

At 5:30am on Tuesday, August 23, I left my wife to go to work. I asked how she was doing, and she informed me that all was pretty much the same. Minor contractions that were fairly regular, but nothing to be worried about. She would call if anything changed.

I was sitting in the bullpen at work (a cordoned off area where the supervisors sit to monitor the room and be easily accessible to the employees) when Mike gave me a wierd look while I was on a call. Nothing new, since he had been doing so all morning, and any other day we have worked together. My minor concern was that this was the look of me having caught him doing something he shouldn't have been doing. Since I didn't know what that was, I was a little bothered.

When I finished the call I was on, he asked me "What's your wife's birthdate?" Glancing at his screen I saw the message he had just taken awaiting dispatch. Martha Graves, having contractions. Other details were filled in as well. All but two lines: her birthdate and her due date. He informed me when I filled in the blanks and he paged it out that he had just let her get off the phone because she was breathing heavy and he didn't want to make her talk when I could fill in the blanks.

Paranoid father and husband that I am, I immediately picked up the account again to make sure it had gone out ok. As it turned out, it hadn't. The on call had changed during the two minutes that he took the message and I filled it out, so it go paged to the wrong person. I fixed this and sent it on it's way.

Minutes later the call came for me from my mother. She was taking my wife in, and after they had been dropped off, my father would come back around and get me. It was eight o'clock, and knowing how long it would take for them to do this, I stayed in for another half an hour and then clocked out. My timing was so perfect that when I stepped out the door the van was just pulling up.

The page error should have been my first warning that this was the real thing, as should other signs, but at the time I didn't notice. I was just eager to get to my wife. My father missed the exit he intended to take so he had to circle around slightly to get us to the hospital, delaying us by maybe three minutes. Nothing major. Then we parked and walked all the way across the garage before turning back to get Martha's bag from the van. Then we walked across the parking garage a second time only to turn and go halfway back to get in range to remotely lock the van.

We got in the hospital, and my father remembered we needed the green elevators, while I remembered we needed the third floor. Since neither of us remembered both components, we waited for a couple of minutes for our turn at the information desk to find out where to go. First we needed to give her my wife's name and address. Easy, right? I got the name part right. After three attempts to recall where I lived, I checked my license, even showing it to the lady. You know she actually guessed I was the dad. Go figure.

Following her directions, we found the green elevators. Most of you may not be familiar with the fact that two out of four of the green elevators won't stop on the third floor. For those of you who aren't familiar with this fact, there are bright yellow signs that say "this elevator doesn't go to the third floor." Guess who didn't read the signs and kept pressing the third floor button (who puts a button on an elevator to a floor it doesn't go to?) until someone got in and we rode to the sixth floor with her. Then we got out, found the other elevators and went where we belonged.

All of this to get to my wife where I could stay by her side except for the occasional trip out to fill in the families on what's going on. "The contractions are continuing. They took a bunch of blood and their waiting on the labs to figure out what they will do next." (By the way, did you know that watching a tech screw up with a heplock, resulting in an expectant father seeing a geyser of blood shoot out of his wife's wrist is dangerous to his sanity?) Where were we? Oh, yes, "No news yet, she just went to the bathroom, we're still waiting on the bloodwork." "Nothing big, I just overheard the midwife swearing at a lab tech demanding to know what the holdup is." "Do you suppose 'What the hell do you mean they lost the samples?' is a bad thing?"

I promise the last was true, but fortunately was the result of a miscommunication. After an eternity (approximately four hours) we had a doctor show up and examine Martha and explain that we would be going from Triage to the labor floor. A great sign from the standpoint that things were moving along, not so great with them throwing around phrases like "mild pre-eclampsia." Nevertheless, we were moving on. Then came the fun of being surrounded by doctors who were constantly doing something, watching something. All of the medications for infections and etc... Then the breaking of her water that was supposed to speed things up. Then inducing labor because she was getting so tired. Toward the end of this, I realized that a father has some pains that the mother is spared. Like the fact that Martha couldn't see the midwife in lengthy conversation with three other doctors outside of the room. She doesn't have the fun of speculating on what this means.

Then they tell you. The baby's head is too big. You're too small. We don't know which is the case, but it isn't a fit. The contractions would be doing there job if they could, but instead they are pushing on the baby's head because it has nowhere to go. Then all of the explanations of c-sections and what they will do and how it will work, while I speculate on how pointless my life will be when they don't make it. Then my mother asked me if I was going to be okay to be the one to sit with Martha during this. Me, who calmly watched a man bleeding to death at my feet while we waited for paramedics to show up, who interned with a funeral home. The same man who can watch just about anything, as long as it doesn't involve my wife bleeding. I said yes. I had no choice.

I kept asking Martha through it all, "How are we doing?" She was calm about it, and everything went remarkably well. Including the points after I noticed that the sheet that kept her from seeing what was going on, didn't in fact impede me from seeing what was going on. So while I made sure she was okay, I watched what they were doing. Quite a freaky experience. Yet, we both did okay. All three of us did. Ever see "Alien"? Let me tell you, my baby cried when just her head was out. Special, and definitely unique.

But then there were some stitches, some staples, and off to recovery. Just my wife, myself, and the most beautiful baby girl that there has ever been. She's got my eyes, and looks nothing else like me. Both bonuses. Since that time I have spent my entire time watching her, or holding her, or both. Sleep wasn't even really an option. In fact, now that I am home, (and should be sleeping since I work at five am) I am really missing that little one that was born a whopping forty seven hours and thirty minutes ago.

I would love to give you more details, but this has already taken way too long, since I should be pretending I am capable of sleep. If you are still with me, there you have it. The details of the beginning of a brand new life, or something close to it. Goodnight.

Added Note.

I told you I was in a hurry. 12:06am EST on 8/24/05.

Delayed News

I haven't been ignoring you folks. I noted a number of responses to my posts and will probably check them tonight. I haven't read them yet. I frankly don't have the time at the moment, as I am heading right back out the door, so here's the reader's digest version:

Emily Carol Graves was born after 16 hours of labor followed by c-section at RGH at 12:06am EST. She is 7 lb 4 oz and 21 inches long. She has my eyes, but fortunately everything else looks like Martha. She is beautiful, and she is at the hospital still, so that's where I am heading now. I have been away from her for an hour and I figure that's too long.

I will resurface at the very latest this weekend when she and her mom come home from the hospital. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy the news of a brand new life or something close to it.

The Wait Goes On

I hope those of you who keep checking in to see the latest progress on this saga are as frustrated as I am. I just love to share the wealth. I will just throw the obvious out there. Still no Emily yet.

Today has been an interesting day. I purchased a new set of runes last night, during my wanderings with my wife. I also purchased her a necklace made out of alternating chips of lapis and malechite. This set of runes are carved into pieces of amethyst. (A witch's best friend.) I figured on focusing on one per day, a practice I did several years ago, to refamiliarize myself with the runes and their various meanings. I began this morning, drawing the one named Othala.

Lady Sabrina, in "The Witch's Master Grimoire" labels this one as separation. Indicative of moving forward on a journey or with a plan. Another source refers to this as the ancestral home. Indicative of spiritual journey or moving forward with one's goals. A third interpretation was the least descriptive, and simply refers to it as home. A focus on one's family and the survival and thriving of the same.

These three don't particularly disagree. Particularly not if you apply them to the quest I am on right now, which is taking two of a kind and working on a full house. Of course, as frantic as I have been about this as of late, I could probably find the same interpretation in almost anything.

Oddly enough, one might look for a completely different interpretation of this rune at this point, and since these same may not know what I am referring to with this rune, I will tell you why. This particular rune also looks strikingly similar to the fish you see on many Christian's cars, bumper stickers etc... I don't really think this has anything to do with anything, but I would be lax if I didn't mention that the thought occurred to me. A sign? Probably not. But an amusing notation.

That's all that is going on with me at the moment. I will update you folks if anything new occurs in my life, or something close to it.

No news is definitely NOT good news.

Well folks, there is little to report other than the fact that we are still waiting. They picked me up from work at about 9:30 last night when her contractions got within 3-4 minutes. Unfortunately, after hours of walking around the hospital and occasional checks on progress, the professionals decided to send her home, as it appeared that Emily was making herself known, but had no interest in coming out to play yet.

Now, nearly twenty four hours later, the story is much the same. With the exception of being more tired and frustrated than I was at two o'clock this morning. I can't even begin to imagine how Martha keeps smiling at me through this.

I went to work this morning, to work my eight to three shift. Management decided after the night I had that they would let me go at 11:30a so I could get some rest. A plan that seemed to be reinforced, despite the humor value, by my running commentary about the callers I dealt with after we hung up. As one of my co-workers pointed out, it might have only been a matter of time before I didn't wait until one of them hung up.

I left work and found that the bar across the street is open at that hour of the morning. A detail that allowed for me to play the role of intoxicated passenger when my mother picked me up an hour and a half later. I actually hung around with her at the bar for a little bit and discussed my frustration with the way things were going, and my complete inability to help this thing move along at a better pace. Then we collected Martha up and made a bunch of different stops, window shopping and letting her get lots of walking in to help things along. Not that the impact of this appears to have been too significant yet. So, as some of you with experience might have surmised, I still haven't slept since I was let out early to go to sleep. I don't know if I will be able to do so in a few minutes when I attempt to.

Anyway, that's the latest news. As I said, I will keep you all posted, and hopefully it will be soon. In the mean time, I will let you folks resume your normal lives, or something close to it.

Letting You Folks Down

I know I have hardly been keeping up my end of the bargain with this blog, and as I watch the counter continue to climb I feel bad that some of you keep popping in to find nothing posted. I have been so busy preparing for the birth of Emily that the rare occasion I have to take a few minutes to myself I take advantage of, rather than coming out here to post.

Martha still hasn't given birth yet, but I may be updating this information as early as morning. Those of you whose phone #'s I have, don't be surprised to hear them ringing shortly. Martha went from no real contractions at the time of her doctor's appointment this morning to about six every ten minutes over the last hour, getting closer and more intense. She is staying here at my mother's for a few more hours, and I am off to work momentarily. I am expecting that at some point in my shift I will be leaving to head for the hospital. I will keep you folks posted, but we are getting close and I am very excited, and alarmed at the speed at which everything turned around. Especially since I have been proclaiming for months that today would be the day Emily would be born, and had just begun to acknowledge this was unlikely when our Mother awakened her newest daughter and whispered, "It's almost time, dear."

All of our preparations are becoming reality, but one of those preparations is still to go to work on time. So I will leave off here. Lisa, in case you didn't get either of my messages, happy belated birthday. MaryEllen, relay the same to your son, I am writing to him but I am not talented with the pen and paper style of things (and have an injured index finger which isn't helping this) so I am a little slow. I promise not to be as slow as Carol. :)

To all of you, enjoy this moment in life, or something close to it.

Back From My Brief Hiatus

Sorry that I haven't been around for the last week or so. I was planning on posting some brief comments to update you folks on what's been going on here on Sunday while visiting the in-laws, but events interfered as I will soon indicate.

I was out in the backyard with Martha as we were preparing for dinner. At this point, I had Anthony since he was getting too fussy to stay still. Martha was heading inside with the corn to boil it when her ankle twisted and she fell.

Now I have always been a cool character under pressure, so I am sure you all realize that a simple matter such as Martha tripping scared me to death. Pregnant women aren't supposed to fall. It's bad for business. Of course, my initial reaction was to run over to her and make sure she was okay, much as her father was already doing. Problem was that I couldn't figure out what to do with the baby.

Fortunately one of the guests, probably seeing the distress on my face, offered to take the baby. And by the time Martha was getting up I was ready to ride to her rescue. She had cut her knee up a bit and I was already hasseling her to call the OB just to make sure everything was okay. She agreed to do so, but based on the fact that she knew they would make her wait at the hospital for hours of observation, said she would do so after she ate.

Initially I argued with her, but on the agreement that she would call sooner if anything felt wrong, we went with that plan. As a little time passed, she realized that her foot was causing her trouble as well.

As predicted, the OB sent her in to ED to have her foot checked out (a minor sprain) and then up to their floor for four hours of observation.

The end result was that she is just fine, as is the baby, and things are now back to normal plus one sprained foot. Further details will be presented as they occur, but my visit here is short today, so you will have to wait to here next until my next opportunity. That's just life, or something close to it.