I was going to write about what kind of weekend I had (a rough one), but then thought better of it. Almost every entry I've done has been a "What I did Today" kind of entry and I honestly think I'm beginning to bore my readers. Sure, they're getting a peek into my life which, although rather boring, is not theirs and is something new. But that newness wears off. Gets boring. One thing I love about a lot of the diaries that I read is that, every now and then, they delve into their past, or divulge something personal. It's a break from the everyday. Some people write about "the best day I've ever had" or "my darkest day" or something that, no matter how much we try to deny it, we really do want to hear. We want to hear how shitty someone's life got because then we know that we're not alone. Or, in order to help our self-esteem, we think "Shit, I'm not as bad off as he/she was." I'll admit that I've gotten to the point where I'm addicted to these diaries like my aunts were addicted to soaps. If I go for too long without reading Anenigma or Uncle Bob or The Uberhamster (as well as many others) I feel kind of empty. I know it sounds corny, but it fills something in me. It lets me know that I'm not going through life and feeling the things I feel alone. And for that, I thank all of you diarylanders out there.

So, with that said, I'm going to tell you about one of the best days of my life (so far). The happiest day of my life and the second happiest are almost a tie, the happiest day being the day I got married, the second being the day Icebear Jr. was born. I've already told about the day that my wife and I got married here so the remainder of this entry will be about Icebear Jr.'s birth.

On Monday, March 13, the wife and I woke up like on any other day. Before I got up to get in the shower, she wandered in to use the toilet and said that she thought she was having a contraction. It was very light, but there was some "spotting" meaning she was bleeding a little. I wasn't sure what to do, but she said that it wasn't hurting, she didn't think anything was going to happen then, so I got in the shower and headed to work. When I got to work, I kept thinking about what was going on and if this was the day. According to the dr.'s calculations, the baby was early, if this really was it, he wasn't due until April 3. Well, I told myself to calm down and not worry about it.

Around noon that day, the wife calls and says that she's still "spotting" and that she thinks maybe we should call the doctor. She calls the doctor and they schedule her to come in for an exam at 2:00. Well, I had forgotten that we were going to have an office lunch for some people coming in from a big hotel chain to check out our operation (the Loding.com side of it at least). When she called me, I said that I would run in, have lunch and then head out. I was also kind of wondering about my vacation time. I had asked for like 14 days off, but I wanted them to start on the 3 of April. This was about 2 weeks early. Well, I didn't think about it long. I ran into the kitchen, made a few sandwiches from the cold cuts, had some salad, and then left saying that I think I'm having a baby.

As 2:00 rolls around, the wife and I take 4-year-old over to her mom's and head to the doctor. Ironically, there's no one in the office and we get right in. Her Ob/Gyn is a great guy and understands our nervousness. He puts her up on the table and examines her. She has dialated a little, but not enough that he thinks she's going into labor. We don't know if we should go to the hospital now or not. He tells us to go home for now, but for her to walk around, walking steps would be even better, and then come back at 4:00. So, back to mother-in-law's house to explain and the wife and mother-in-law and 4-year-old start doing laps around the block. Of course, this is in Florida heat, so every once in a while, they'd come in and take break. The wife is such a fuckin' trooper. As we're all sitting around bitching about the heat or what have you, the wife is doing laps around the dining room table. Non stop. I don't think she stopped moving for more than 10 minutes the whole time. Well, knowing that I need it as much, if not more than her, I go out and walk with her around the block some more. When 4:00 comes, we go back to the doctor, hoping for some news. Unfortunately, nothing. She has dialated only a little bit more and is still having contractions, but nothing to warrant going to the hospital. What do we do now?

Well, he asks about 4-year-old's birth and when the wife explains that, after being induced, he was born in less than 2 hours, he makes a decision. Go home, but if the contractions get to be pretty severe and fairly close, then to go on to the hospital. So, we go round up 4-year-old, inform the mother-in-law...again, and then head home to wait. Watching TV, I had a hundred thoughts rushing through my head. I pictured scenes I had seen on TV of women running in yelling "It's time!" and us rushing to the car and zooming to the hospital. I had never seen a baby born before (this is my first one) and was having thoughts of what I'd see when he came. Would it be bloody? Would it be disgusting? I really had no idea what to expect.

Well, as I sat there pondering my future and how disgusting it might be, the wife walks in, around 9:00 and says, "I think we should go to the hospital now." We pack up 4-year-old, some toys, clothes and shit for her and head over to mother-in-law's, then to the hospital. Traffic sucks because I had to pick the one road, out of like 10 that go to the hospital, that has construction. Fortunately, the wife's not in a big rush so we're cool. We finally get to the hospital, find a place to park and enter through the emergency room. Not too crowded at 9:00 at night, but we've never been to this hospital before so we're kind of at a loss. There's a security guard that has a table set up partially blocking one of the two hallways out of the waiting room, and he's stopping people and asking where they're going. Well, we figure he can point us in the right direction. Yup, just go back to that desk that you just walked past that says Admitting. He was nice about it though, he could see we were both a bit "out of it".

After getting her admitted finally, we get her up into the labor/delivery area and into a triage room. I was hoping for a private room, but then I realize this isn't going to be "the room". A very heavy set nurse comes in and starts getting information and examining her and such. We find out that she's not very dialated and we should wait for a while. Great, more waiting. After about a ½ hour or so, the heavy set nurse comes back in and suggests that she go walk around. She also says that, when the wife feels a contraction, to move to a wall and put her hands on the wall (basically like you're being frisked) and to swing her hips from side to side. I guess this helps get the baby turned or move him down towards the vagina...or something. So, we go out to the hall and start walking. Luckily, it's about 10:00 and there's not anyone around. The floor we're on makes a figure 8, sort of, so we start doing laps. Every once in a while, the wife would feel a contraction and she'd stop, lean on the wall, spread her legs and sway from side to side. I don't know if it was the hospital gown or the way she swayed her hips, but I found this to be quite a turn on...yes, I know...I'm sick.

This continued for about 45 minutes and then we head back to the room. Unfortunately, the heavy set nurse has left with problems with an ulcer so we have a new nurse. She's younger, very slim and rather cute, but she doesn't know what all we've done so far so her suggestion is "go walk". Fuckin' walking. Shit. Anyway, after sitting for a little bit and me getting a soda and some chips, we head back out to walk some more. Every once in a while, we have to stop by a bathroom because the wife is starting to bleed and she's...um...uh...dripping. After another ½ hour of walking or so, we're finally getting fed up with it so we head back in. The nurse checks her and says that she's still not dialated much. At this point, I'm starting to get pissed because I'm afraid they're going to say "Go home and come back when you're sure you're having the baby." I don't want to go home, goddammit! What next?

As we're sitting there, contemplating the situation, the wife says something about "stimulating her nipples". I'm like, "yeah, right". The wife is a major hornball and I wouldn't put it past her to be trying to "get some" even while she's in labor. At that, however, the nurse sticks her head in and says that she's correct. Apparently, stimulating the nipples causes the same type of chemical (or whatever) that manually inducing labor uses in the shot. So, I start tweaking and twisting her nippies. She loves this of course. Every once in a while, I'll get tired and she'll do it. Kind of kinky if you ask me. During the entire time she's in this room, both before and after walking, they have the wife hooked up to a monitor with two straps. The first strap has a fetal heartbeat monitor on it that they place so they can monitor the baby's heartbeat. The other one is some kind of device that measures the contractions. Whenever the wife would have a contraction, there was a green LED readout that would start rising with the strength of the contraction. There was also a tape that was printed out, kind of like from a seismograph. It would show the intensity of the contraction and it's duration. Rather cool. Anyway, the wife was having contractions up into the 80's and 90's but they weren't lasting very long. After stimulating her nips, however, that tune changed.

Her contractions quickly started to increase in intensity and in duration, as well as frequency. They were peaking around 100 or so and were lasting for about 45 seconds to 1 minute and were about 8 minutes apart. With this, the nurse unhooked her and moved us across the hall to a "delivery room". It was nice. Big huge room with a big bed, a recliner (for me) and a baby-warmer-crib-type thingy. Everything they needed right there. As the wife lay there, suffering from intense contractions, I made the mistake of sitting in the recliner. It's now well after midnight and I didn't sleep too well the night before, plus I've been walking for a few hours. Needless to say, I dozed off....a lot. In fact, I woke my self up snoring a few times.

The wife was really in some intense pain, too. She had told me (and herself) that she was going to have this baby without an epideral or anything. When they induced her for 4-year-old, she was almost too drugged and was barely cognizant for the birth. She didn't want to do that again. Unfortunately, the pain was too much for her, so she broke down and called for an epideral. Luckily it was covered under our insurance because the fuckin' think is like $800. The nurse comes in with a small syringe and heads to the IV bag. "Here's something to help take the edge off, and then if you want, we'll get you an epideral." She injects this stuff into the IV tube, marks the tape on the monitor thingy when she put it in and leaves. No sooner does she step out of the room, than the wife starts acting like an extra from a Cheech & Chong movie. "Whoa. This is some good stuff." It's kind of funny. I'm like, "You're stoned!" We both giggled. Not only is she not feeling the pain from the contractions, I don't think she's feeling anything. Needless to say, she didn't need the epideral.

After what seemed like hours, the wife finally calls to me and said "I think my water broke". She's still so baked she can't tell. I checked under the gown and there was a bit more blood and a thick clear fluid (called "show" I think) but I couldn't tell. I had no idea what it looked like when a woman's water broke. I went and got the nurse and she checked but said, nope, not yet. So I got some tp and cleaned the wife off. I was getting nervous, this was "go" time. After about another 15 minutes, the wife calls me and says this time she thinks her water has broken, for real. I call the nurse and she comes back in and says that it looks like it. She's off to call the doctor and then get the room set up. And, we're off!

She says the doctor will be here in 15 minutes so we start getting the bed/room ready. From underneath the bed, she pulls out the stirrups and I help her place them in the bed frame, turning it into an instant delivery table...cool. She flips on a switch turning on some overhead lights (I was trying to tell the wife these were video cameras and that they were going to tape her...pissed her off...she hit me) and then turns a knob to dim them slightly. They're placed perfectly for the delivery. She leaves and then comes back with this friggin' cart with all kinds of shit on it, and then goes to the baby-warmer-crib and turns it on and starts laying these disposable blankets down, one after one after one. The wife's ready, where's the doc?

No sooner do I wonder this, than he comes walking in. All cheery and happy. The guy is like a Latin Bob Ross. And here we go! He quickly slips into a gown and some gloves, not tying the gown. The end of the bed, under the wife's butt, drops down and a trash can/biohazard container is placed underneath and plastic sheets are placed all around. He grabs a little stool, sits down and scoots in. Now, I had thought her water had broken, but I was wrong. The doctor takes this long, pointy, chop-stick looking thing, sticks it in the wife and gently pulls down. SPLOOSH all this fluid comes shooting out. The 10-year-old in me goes "cool". The husband in me goes "God, I hope that didn't hurt." It's time! It's time!

He immediately begins grabbing her labia and pulling them aside and stretching them. The nurse and I are telling the wife to push. She's semi drugged out, but I guess this pain is intense enough that it's getting through the drugs. Her biggest fear is that she's going to tear. She tore severely with 4-year-old and doesn't want to suffer through it again (because you can't have sex). We're telling her to push and she's arching her back. The doctor is yelling "Don't arch your back!" The nurse and I get her to curl up in a ball and ask her to push. Just as she's starting to push, I can see the crown of the head. I think my eyes were the size of like fuckin' plates about then. All of a sudden the wife stops pushing and says "Am I going to tear?" At that moment, I just wanted to hug her and hold her. Sadly, I was in a friggin' trance...I couldn't move. The nurse and doctor tell her no and to push again. Here he comes!!!

She curls up, pushes one good push and the doctor pulls the baby's head out. He's facing down. The doctor immediately begins pulling out the umbilical cord and tells the wife to stop pushing. After getting the cord out, he starts pulling the baby's shoulders, then hips, then legs, and then he's out!!! As soon as I see that little body emerge, it was all I could do to keep from crying (tough man thing, you know). At 1:27 AM, March 14, 2000, my son, Icebear Jr., was born. I was so happy I can't put it into words. Woohoo!!

The doctor then takes the baby, who is a blueish-grey...blueish-grey? Are they supposed to look like that? In all the movies they come out pink! Then he turns him upside down at an angle and starts suctioning out the mouth and nose, which brings immediate crying. I almost faint. They take the baby and lay him on the wife's chest so she can see him. She slowly raises her head, looks at him for about 5 seconds and then says, "He's grey." I almost fainted again...from laughter. They then take the baby as the doctor starts to clamp off the umbilical cord. Before laying her head down, the wife says, "My husband wants to cut the cord." which I did. So, the doctor hands me a pair of narrow scissors and says to cut between the clamps, which I do. My hands were shaking so bad, I just hoped I could cut the damn thing and not a finger or something, but I did it just fine. Then the baby was gone.

A nice black nurse grabs the baby and takes him and lays him over in the warmer-crib where he procedes to cry his defiance to this new, cold, bright world. And just as they said, the more he cries, the pinker he gets until not 10 minutes later, there's a little, pink, very pissed off bundle kicking and punching in the warmer-crib. The doctor, who was still with my wife was pushing on her tummy and pulling on the umbilical cord. I stood there proud of myself. I didn't faint or get sick or anything, and I knew I wouldn't. I was actually kind of surprised because I hadn't really seen anything that gross. I had heard it was all bloody and shit, but all I saw was a bunch of clear fluid. Go figure. It was at that time that the doctor removed the placenta...and I think I acutally went pale.

The wife was telling him that his poking and pushing was ticklish and he said he was just working the placenta loose. I was wondering what one looked like. It's where the umbilical cord hooks up in the womb and where all the food and stuff is processed and given to the baby through the umbilical. I'm standing there curious, when all of a sudden, dark, red blood starts coming out of my wife. Then a bit more. Then this large, blood red mass of tissue comes out of my wife. I have never seen anything this blood red before, not even in horror movies. Like I said, I went pale. They even kept it to weigh it and shit. How'd you like to have that job?

Well, after calling my mother-in-law and telling her the good news, I wandered around the rest of the night/morning in kind of a haze. My son was here and he was healthy. My wife was fine and resting. Things were perfect. He was a perfect, 7 lbs. 6 oz. bundle of joy. Later, they moved my wife to a semi private room to rest and I went on home. I think I got home at 6:00 in the morning. Needless to say, I soon after passed out.

So, that long, drawn out tale was the birth of my son Icebear Jr.

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