#1 - Zero Hour - good lord I should have slept that night...

This all started with my Mom's pushing - and with a forty pound typewriter for Christmas one year - at least it seems to weigh that much. It really started with the birth of our first child, a little man whose name seems to cause a good deal of difficulty at insurance companies and doctor's offices. Marek Ryan was born on January 29th, and his entrance into the world has taken his parents into a whole new journey of ups, downs, ins and outs - and it's only been two weeks.

The months, days, and hours leading up to his birth were all the same for me, for the most part. As a new father-to-be, it was all just run-of-the-mill stuff, like watching my wife expand to a new dimension, seeing our spare bedroom turn from a big empty room to colorful walls of trees and elephants. I was still going out to meet with friends and brew beer, play games, or just drink and sleep whenever I wanted.

Marek's grandparents on my side were in town and staying to see their first grandchild. His grandmother painted his room, and the job she did would put a smile on any face. When he's old enough to see the walls, Marek will smile too - but I'm ahead of myself, too soon for the story. Grandpa has been pretty excited as well, and spent one afternoon sitting and staring at Marek as he slept in his car seat. I'm ahead of myself...

The birth was not the way we hoped for - it's still not something I like to think about, but there were some extremely worried people hovering around my wife for an while afterward...seems low blood pressure makes for very nervous times. She experience both sides of the coin, first with natural pushing, until Marek's heart rate went down for good, and the room filled with more people than I thought possible. Some guy handed me a big bag of clothes - "Put these on now, hurry, and don't wear the mask yet". I had a hell of a time getting the booties on, and that seemed to be the only thing I could think about - getting a pair of cloth booties on my feet. Once they wheeled her into the OR, I was on a mission to find my parents, who were there to support us for it all. I ran into the lobby, in scrubs, looked at them and said "she's heading for a C-Section - " and left. I'm not sure what they were thinking, but as a family we're not fans of the hospital - too many bad memories - but I'm sure I was pretty strong-willed in my face and approach, as to not panic anyone. That was the last time for being a pillar of strength for some time - but I'm ahead of myself once again - - -

The surgery was quick, fast, and for all accounts, was very well done- kudos to our doctor and her staff. Marek was out, he was free, he was crying, he was covered in blood and other body stuff, and I was in awe he was as little as he was. His head was covered with hair, and he had a set of lungs that worked well. Ten fingers, ten toes, looked pink all over. He posed for a few pictures I snapped, then it was off to Mom's face for her to take a look - I got a snap of that too - then off to the nursery. It was suggested I walk him to the hall, and I thought that was pretty normal. I found out later Heather wasn't done for some time, as they were working on a secondary surgery that was unplanned.

His stay in the nursery was normal, he was a 9/9 APGAR baby, and was very well cared for - I can not say enough about the staff at the hospital. My parents were there, and we took a few moments to talk about what happened, and what was next - Heather should be in triage soon, to recover, Marek would need to nurse, and we needed to get on to the next part of our life with a little one. Those last few moments were my last vestiges of my old life being locked away, and my new one taking hold. Calm and confident, I worked my way into triage, and saw some very worried faces hovering around my wife - seems her blood pressure was below acceptable standards, and she was not improving. Panic was creeping into my mind, but as I was confident in the way these people had done it all to this point, I pushed it down. Heather improved, it took over an hour, and people were in and out of that little room for the entire time - they tested cuffs, they looked at numbers, then used some drugs, they chatted in the hall, they came back. Once she was stable, and Marek was in the room, we were a family.

We were put in a cold room at the end of the hall (I only figured out the temperature control on the third day) and that was that - I had a chair that folded out to make a bed of sorts, Heather was in a bed that turned and twisted in all kinds of ways, and Marek was in a little plastic container on top of a noisy gurney contraption. We were told nurses would be in every hour to check on mother and child. I was glad they came in , cause after I changed my first diaper, I locked down and didn't move for the entire night. It was not my finest hour to say the least. How were we suppose to do all this, all of the sudden? None of those dumb books talked about this moment, the classes were pointless to help out now, and I was at the moment a new dad falls apart. Maybe most don't, maybe there are a great deal of "Super Dads" out there, who take it all in stride and never think twice of what they need to do, but I tend to think the majority of us have the same thoughts I've had, the same groundbreaking shock to the system, and I'm pretty sure there's very little you can do to be ready. The scare of loosing my wife was compounding a lot of other things going on that night, and later I was to find out just how big that hour in triage had changed my life.

We spent four full days in the hospital. They were what I will be calling the "easy" days of my son's first month out in the world. Nurses were there to help in any way, and we had the support of my parents to stay in with Heather and Marek while I ran home to shower, get mail, sleep a little, and clean out the cat box. I think those hours away were important. My brother showed up with a small assembly of flowers in a vase, and it was the single most touching moment I've had with him in our whole life - not that I told him that yet, but he'll find out. For a young man who works a hellish job for no money, he made time to pick up flowers on his way to the hospital. How he's still single I'll never understand...

The first few days were also the start of my lack of eating, and I didn't catch on to the lack of food in my system until it was much too late in the game - and once I did, it was a struggle to climb back to normal.

We left the hospital in the afternoon, and as will happen countless times in our life, Marek decided he wasn't going anywhere until he had eaten and his diaper changed. The trip home felt like we were just getting our feet under us - something I'm sure most new parents confuse with moving into the norm of their home. In reality the first week home would be one of the hardest times in my life thus far, and I've been through a few tough times in my short 30+ years.