Layla Marie has Arrived!

28 August 2008: The day begins at 2am, when we finally fall asleep. The feeling is one of high anticipation, touched with a sense of anxiety that I'm sure is exponentially higher for Carrie. Around 4am, I woke with a start as Carrie was getting out of bed. "Ooh; everything okay, woman?" I ask. "Yep, just gotta pee." Seconds later, I'm back asleep.

5:00 comes just as quickly as you'd suspect, and even the cats weren't awake. After a couple of short snoozes, I hit the shower. We managed to pack and repack everything the night before, so that we wouldn't have to think too much in the morning. The Pontiac horses are saddled, and we make our way to Baylor.

After a brief check in, we're taken down the hall to room 112, or something similar. I know it has a 12 in it, anyway. It's a pretty big room, and a decent daddy chair stands ready against the wall. Guess where I am right now.

I'm going to chronicle the day in military time, because I've always felt that using "a," "p" and "m" for time designation was a waste of good letters.

1900: Carrie has her IV at this point, and they're getting the "Let's Have a Baby" juice, a.k.a. Potosin. Our nurse's name is Jamecia, I think. Again; it's way too early to think at this point, and my brain is the only one in the room that hasn't been challenged mentally. They've checked her cervix, and she's around 2cm dilated. The inducing has begun!

0830: The Potosin is doing its job, and we have our first visit from the doc. She decided that to speed things along, she would break Carrie's water. Okay; that worked. Contractions have started.

0916: Her last contraction merits an "8" on the pain scale. The reality of this entire day is settling in really quickly, and I'm realizing that two nights in a row of sleeplessness is taking its toll on both of us. We know that we have a long day ahead of us, and it's key to pace our energy right now. That, and the two episodes of "Saved by the Bell." That gets to me pretty damn quick.

1004: The decision has been made to kick in some pain meds. Carrie's a trooper, but it's time to bring that 8 down to a 4 or so. It's gonna be a long day, kids.

1131: Contractions are steady. She's going from passed out from pain meds to waking up and squirming… Carrie + Drugs = bad experiences, I think. I'm doing my best to be supportive, but the meds have made her pretty lucid, so I could be talking about tattooing our daughter's name on my butt and she wouldn't know the difference. Good times.

1204: The decision is made that she wants the epidural. Anesthesiologist's on his way… until then, its breathe and wait.

1220: Epidural gooooood… Amidst the small talk that I shared with the doctor, I mentioned that we were originally from southeast Missouri, and he said, "Like Cape Girardeau?" Well, smack my mama; he's heard of Cape! He got Carrie taken care of lickety-split, and her spirits lifted pretty quickly. Shortly after the epidural placement, her parents arrived. Time for lunch…

1330: A Chik-Fil-A sandwich later, Carrie's dad and I are back in the room, just in time to find out about the nausea. Just another one of the many pleasures of labor, ladies! Looks like that Aquafina wasn't so fina after all-a.While I was gone for lunch, the doc came in for a check up. Carrie's around 4cm now, and (this is paraphrased) you can expect about a centimeter an hour. Okay… so, Carrie should be at 10 cm by 1900. That's a long time, to be certain, but then you have to throw on the 2-3 hours of pushing time, and you suddenly get the big picture of what childbirth is all about. The stuff you see on TV is bullshit; don't believe the hype.

1710: almost 10 cm!!! she's really progressed quickly. SO much that I need to go--[ed. ps.; i stopped typing here because the last thing I wanted to do was to piss off the nurses becuase "dad won't get off the damn laptop"]

1750: the doc should be back in about ten to check her out personally, and if everything is cool we'll set up with the green light to push push push! I know this hasn't been the most creatively written blog I've ever done, but dammit; I'm going on 12 hours at the hospital in a baby shit green chair with the most awkward sitting position ever. Not to mention, I'M GONNA BE A DAD IN A FEW HOURS SO BACK OFF. Oh, sorry; I didn't get an epidural. I thought about tapping the lines, but voted against it.

1753: checking to see if that last little bit of her cervix is gone and then it's time to start pushing!!!

29 August 2008: and here we are.

0139: ...and pushing commenced. I will write a more detailed completion to this blog later, but for now, here are the vital stats:

Layla Marie Burgfeld

21" 8lb 9.2oz

Born at 1957, 28 August 2008

Here is our current hospital information:

Baylor University Medical Center

3500 Gaston Ave

Dallas TX 75246

Room 725

Jonsson Hospital

Room Direct Line: 214-818-9725

Like I said, more to come, but we want to say thank you to everyone who was praying and writing and texting and anticipating right beside us through this whole ordeal. Layla is absolutely breathtaking; I am so in love.

For now, enjoy some pics.

Peace,

D

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Let the Countdown Begin...

26 August 2008: Today we headed back to Dr. Bakos' office, for the "Okay, the baby's not here yet; let's talk" appointment. After a short ten minute wait (no interesting articles this time), we headed in for the sonogram. Today, we were joined by Carrie's parents, who got in Saturday afternoon.

After jellyin' the belly, the sonogram started. "The head is down, so that's good." Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Well, she rolled around Carrie's big beach ball, and did the usual checkups. Layla's heart rate is around 150, which is great. We saw fingers and her face, and again, the vag. I don't know why this tech is insistant on showing us the vag every time; we get it. She's a... she.

Then came time for the measurements. After doing the very scientific point-and-clicks that the tech does, she said, "...and put all that together and we get 9.1 pounds."

HOLY SHIT.

Remember, folks, the baby is still inside Carrie. I wasn't surprised, frankly. I was surprised in my accuracy in predicting the weight today, though. After the first two sonograms, I did an estimated per-day weight gain, based on my experiences with the cattle. Yeah, it sounds archaic, but it's freakin' accurate. I estimated her at 9 pounds, 2 ounces on this date, and she is 9 pounds, 1.6 ounces. Man, I'm good...

Epidural is sounding better and better.

I wanted to share the video of the sonogram, but since it's nearly half a gig and I don't have an FTP set up to let you watch it while I host it, you're out of luck. Sorry; I'll figure out someway to screenshot it or something. Windows sucks (and that's a whole other blog, too).

We got back upstairs and saw the doc. She said that Carrie is about 2 cm dialated, so we will have to induce. We have set up an appointment for Thursday morning at 6 am to go to the hospital and get the ball rolling, so to speak. Now we're preparing for the longest day of our lives... Carrie's already taking a nap. I think she's a bit overloaded after all that. I can't imagine what is going through her head. I'd be scared poopless, frankly, to imagine pushing something that big out of my body. I'm here for her, though, and her parents as well, and for those of you lamenting us being so many miles away, we do feel your hugs and hear your prayers. Thanks to all of you; from the heart.

So now we wait... again. Layla definitely has my "I don't wanna get outta bed" genes, that's for certain. I'll be filling in loads of bloggy goodness on Thursday, when Bump Watch '08 goes live on location. Be sure to tune in on any of my blogs; http://iceburgtx.blogspot.com/, www.myspace.com/iceburgtx or on the Facebook for a link. I'm taking the webcam, so for those of you with MSN messenger access, add me at iotapsi94@hotmail.com and you'll be able to join in the conference. I've also got skype (Iceburgtx), and I may use that as well.

Here we go, kids; the ride has been quick, but we're coming up on the big finish!

Love,
D

Bump Watch Update: Feel the excitement, kids.

19 August 2008: Headed to the doctor's office today, for our scheduled appointment. After my usual 10 minute nap in the waiting room and reading an intriguing article about the future of Penthouse in Forbes magazine, we headed back for Carrie's check up.

"Well, looks like you're about 1 cm. The head is down, so that's good."

Could be any day now. Could be a week. It's just that time to play the waiting game. We did set up another appointment for next week Tuesday. If Layla hasn't made her grand entrance by that time, we are doing another sonogram and will talk about inducing labor. IF (and that's a big "if") we have to induce, I'm going to suggest that we go to B-Dubs (a.k.a. Buffalo Wild Wings for the layman).

B-Dubs, as we affectionately call it, has a little in-house contest associated with their hottest wings. The sauce is known as "Blazin'," which is probably the understatement of the year. This sauce has the potential energy to run Dallas for about 2 months in one bottle. Frankly, I don't see why we don't tap this renewable energy source and start saving money immediately, but that's an entirely different blog.

Anyway, they have a contest that if you can eat six wings in the Blazin' sauce in six minutes, you get a t-shirt and your photo posted on their "Wall of Bad-asses" or whatever they actually call it. It's interesting to me to see the pictures of people who have accomplished this seemingly impossible feat. I feel for them; going the rest of your life without a sense of taste seems like one hell of a sacrifice to make for a t-shirt and a photo with a semi-hot waitress, but I digress.

They say spicy food is one way to start labor along its natural path. I'm thinking, let her tear into these wings, and maybe (and this is a long shot) they'll have to put a picture of Carrie on their wall with "Labor Face"* and shocked waitresses. I think that would trump any Polo-wearing Mexican with a 6-pack waitress.

Of course, there are the side effects to think of, but those are just that: Things to think of and not write about. At least, not today.

*Labor Face: I use this term to define what can only be described as a mix of primal aggression, fear, fatigue and longing for satisfaction and rest. It applies to women during childbirth and men during really, really bad constipation. I'm not saying the acts are equal; just the faces are similar.

One night last week, we put all of our stuffed animals that we owned and that we've received in the crib. We thought that would be nice, for Layla to share some cushy goodness that helped us through some tough times as a kid.

We did that in the evening, and when Carrie came upstairs to go to bed, she came to me and told me to get the camera for an uber-cute moment. Napoleon decided that he needed some cushy comfort, too. After I snapped the picture, I went back into the other room, and then Carrie came and grabbed me about five minutes later. Truman, it appeared, had decided that Nappy took his turn and ousted him from his spot. Napoleon got voted off the island, so to speak.

"Any day now..." I guess we're ready. Here's a photo of our super awesome mega stroller 5000. It's one of the "Travel Systems," as they're known. We scored this off of Craigslist for less than half of the original price, brand new and still in the box. Just outstanding.

Someone made the comment to me about what it will be like when we have our second, having to wait 9 months instead of 6 weeks. I'm sure it will be ridiculously long, but on the upside, I'll be able to blog about it a lot more. :-)

And This, it Begins...

11 August 2008: Another doctor's visit yesterday, and the longest waiting room wait that we've experienced there. We've been pretty spoiled to this point, so waiting for an hour seemed like an eternity. Actually, at least for me, it went by relatively fast, since I kept falling asleep. Carrie woke me several times, as I had begun to snore. Meh. Babies like snoring... I think (hope).

Finally, we are called back for Carrie's appointment. We're meeting with Dr. Martin today, as our regular doc is on vacation (which you would know if you've read the other blogs), which explains the wait. Patients don't go on vacation when the doc does.

After Dr. Martin's assistant did the usual heart rate/blood pressure/weight checks, she came in to meet with us. She checked Carrie out, and was very cool. She talks a lot more than our other doctor.

Anyway, to cut to the chase, Carrie is now 1-2 cm dialated. Does this mean we rushed to the hospital, expecting a baby at any moment? No. It means that on the scale of 1-10 cm, she's in the "Cheerio" stage. In Dr. Martin's words, "If I was a betting woman, and I am not, I would say you'll have this baby girl here in seven to ten days."

7-10 days.

Awesome. We're pretty much ready, minus the diaper thing. We were informed by some vets of the diaper world that the Diaper Champ is much better than the Diaper Genie. You can use Target bags or Schnuck's/Kroger bags instead of the proprietary ones. Good call, AC.

* * *

So the adventure has really kicked into high gear now. This is the part of the movie where Indy loses his step at the top of a cliff and slides down a makeshift waterslide into the river. I guess the waterslide analogy is really not a great visual, given that we're talking about labor and delivery, but you get the point. The brakes are off, and it is time to lock and load. Any more cliches?

We Know Everything Now

09 August 2008: Today, Carrie and I are attending a class that is supposed to educate us on childbirth and all the fun things that come with it. Typically, these classes are done over several weeks, but not this time around. We'd have preferred that, but time just didn't allow. One more point for rogue baby.

We get to the hospital around 9am, and after a few "it's-too-damn-early-leave-me-alone" arguements about which street to park on, we get in a nice shady garage spot and start the trek to the class. Carrie spies a group ahead of us with protruding bellies and pillows, so we decide to follow those folks; they seem to know where they're going.

Our assumption was right--we follow them straight in to the class. there are about a dozen couples here, with at least four sets of twins! Fertility drugs FTW (that means "for the win" for you noobs)!

Our instructor's name is Melissa, and she has five kids of her own. She's probably around my age or so, and I think having an instructor who has five children and still looks young and pretty reassured the women in the room somewhat.

We started the day off with name tags and introductions, and we paired up with another couple to "interview" them, and then we introduced them to the group. The whole room was introduced, and we had quite a menagerie of folks, from students to lawyers and investment types. Of course, I had to brag a bit about Carrie's Magical Womb of Power and how we just found out a month ago... yada, yada, yada. Every woman in the room gave Carrie a dirty look, I think. That's the effect of the Magical Womb of Power.

We were handed workbooks, which we didn't use a lot in the class, probably due to the fact that we were crash-coursing this stuff. We discussed the medical/science side of things, which even still ellicits a giggle or two from guys in the room. Believe it or not, it wasn't me this time.

Though it was an early morning after a typically sleepless night, I didn't find myself nodding off. I've discovered that really listening and concentrating will keep me awake most of the time. I finally used that train of thought for something constructive for once.

Carrie was a real trooper. Even as the class was barely starting, I was reminded of how much of a rock she is; how well she is taking this pregnancy. All these other women needed their feet propped up and had to lay out on the bed and etc.; Carrie could've just as easily been plowing the fields, as resilient as she is. Now, don't get me wrong; I don't less of these other women because they are "soft" or "have needs," but I bet Carrie could kick their asses.

We took lunch at noon, and Carrie and I hit up the cafeteria. This cafeteria cheats, by having stuff like Chik-Fil-A and other pre-made stuff. It was good, but I miss Saint Francis' home cookin'. At lunch, we sat near a walk-through area, and I was reminded that a hospital is a place mainly for sick people, not just for the joy of childbirth.

Sitting behind us was a family, and at the head of the table was a woman in a wheelchair, probably about 60, and it was obvious she was having radiation treatments. Her family flanked her, helping her to eat and trying to maintain a happy facade as they worked through lunch. A kid of maybe 10 or 13 came walking through, in his gown and stockings, with his right hand on the rolling tree holding his IV bags. I caught his eyes for a brief second, and swear he could've made me break with a smile.

After lunch, we regrouped for a tour of the birthing facilities. We trekked down the hall and went into one of the birthing rooms, and managed to pack everyone in. Some poor sap was asked to play guinea pig, and he lay down on the bed and Melissa showed us all some of the different positions recommended for delivery. Did you know that "doggy style" is an actual birthing position? They also discussed squatting while holding a rail over your head, as well as gripping the ceiling fan and pulling the knees toward the chest. Okay, that was a stretch, but believe me when I say that I was amazed.

When we returned to the lobby, we had to move quickly, as the air-evac team was coming through with a bed. there wasn't a person on the bed, but two tanks and a small box-like tent. I think everyone knew at that point that it was a baby, and I could just hear the distress from the mothers-to-be, as well as us dads. Later in the day, we found out that the baby most likely came from one of the birth clinics, and required attendance at the lvlIII NICU at Baylor. They have to air-evac the babies there when that need arises. Yet another great reason to have a kid at Baylor (or at Saint Francis for you folks in SEMO; they also have a leading Level III NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit)).

Also while we were in the lobby, a group of Asian people, one dressed in priest's clothing, came in. They headed towards the OR waiting rooms, and I could only assume they were here because of the bus crash that happened earlier. Read more about that here: http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/080808dnmetbusaccident.2646008e.html

Again, the mortality of mankind hit me like a sledgehammer, and I just thought about everything I must do to prepare the world for my daughter... and to prepare my daughter for the world. It's a scary place, but I managed to make it okay so far, and I'm sure my daughter will be able to outsmart me, which will be a feat in itself.

We heard from one of the anethesiologists at the medical center, and he informed us of all the things that are involved when you look at epidurals. Carrie wants to try to have things roll naturally, but we're keeping the option open. Even though everything has been, well, perfect so far, there is no doubt in my mind that this will freakin' hurt, especially with my buffalo head in the genetic mix.

At the end of the day, we wrapped things up with relaxation and breathing. Melissa had us all get on the floor, and I picked a spot where I could lean up against a chair behind me. The chair was leaning up against a bed or something; it doesn't matter, really. Carrie sat between my legs, and i put the pillows and blanket between us so she could get very comfortable. We closed our eyes and practiced breathing together.

While all of this peaceful time was going on, Carrie was sitting on my femoral artery, so the bloodflow to my left leg was gone. I couldn't say anything or shift around; this was a zen-like, peaceful meditation for an entire room of pregnant white women. I'd be shot.

Once she had the moms relaxed, Melissa started with the dads. "Picture yourself on the day the baby decides to come." I'm naturally tense from the leg, and now this? Nice.

"Think of the things you need to grab from the house, and then picture helping mom into the car. Think of the roads you'll take to get to the hospital, and the picture yourself sweating--" Did I hear that right? No, surely not--"yourself PARKING and getting mom inside." Ah, okay; I'm hearing things now.

At this point, my leg feels like needles are covering it, pressing randomly over a thousand points. On top of the pain in my leg, I can't help but picture the goofiest, worst-case scenarios during this "relaxation" period. I see us checking in at the hospital, and the receptionist is this big sister, on the phone with her cousin, saying something like, "Ooh, girl, I know... But he was cute though and I was drunk anyway... [to us] Um; can I help you?"

I'm doing my best to relax, but I know my face is betraying me. Finally, after about 10 minutes of relaxation, We're dismissed for the day. I hobble up onto my right leg, and feel the immediate relief of a mad rush of blood to my left side. Ahh... now I'm relaxed.


In all sincerity, we did learn a lot. I feel much more prepared for this whole thing now (remember, I never took health class in school), and feel like Carrie and I can handle the world. We've been so incredibly blessed and lucky so far, and I know that our adventure is just beginning. I just wish the hospital validated parking...

10 August 2008: During yesterday's class, I received a call from J. C. Penney's, and our crib finally came it. Actually, let me rephrase: Our crib came in on the first, it just took them eight days to call me about it. Sigh. I resolved to make this day, Sunday, pick-up-and-put-together-the-crib day.

I got to Penney's, and waited in line at customer service behind a family that looked like they had more returns than the store had inventory. Finally, another rep stepped up and told me I needed to go to the catalog section. Makes sense; shows how much I actually shop.

I arrived at the catalog section and was greeting by a petite, mousey girl of maybe 20. I showed her my receipt, and her eyes widened as she realized what they had to get out of the warehouse. Her assistant? Maybe 20 pounds heavier than her... I volunteered to get the bed out for them, but they said they would take care of it.

Fast-forward to home, where I seamlessly put the entire thing together. Have a look:

Yeah, I think I did pretty good, too. We don't have the bedding on it yet, but you get the basic idea.

So now, baby Layla has a place to sleep, a place to swing, a place to play and a bunch of stuff to throw up on and poop in. Our essentials that we have left are the high chair (which we're looking at tonight when we have dinner at Sam & Lois' house), diaper genie and stroller/travel system thingy. I'm amazed that we've been able to prepare what we've needed in such a short time, but we've had great family, friends and luck on our side. Not to mention that Carrie and I are superheroes... Ha!

* * *

We head back to the doctor this afternoon, and we aren't meeting with our regular doctor, but a stand-in as ours is on vacation. Great timing, eh? I look at it like we've only seen her a few times, so really we're not dedicated to her only. It does tend to make one nervous, though. All should be fine; this is more of a check-up to see what Carrie's cervix is like, and hopefully Layla decided she needs to cook a bit more. More to come soon!

Bump Watch 2008: Update!

I think I'm finally becoming fully aware of what is happening, and I couldn't be happier. I watch Carrie's belly stretch and rise and fall as our little girl squirms around inside her. She's going to either be incredibly hyperactive or a professional breakdancer, because this kid squirms more than a crackhead dipped in butter.

Odd analogy; granted.

2 August 2008: With a baby shower pending on the 3rd, we decided to really dedicate ourselves to determining her name. After all, "Baby Girl" won't go over too well at preschool. Carrie and I have been on the same track as far as names go, and we decided on--wait for it--Layla Marie. It flows well; I've already practiced my dad yells and it just rolls off the tongue like that butter-dipped crackhead. Sorry; there's that analogy again.

3 August 2008: This Sunday night, we had our first baby shower. It was put together with much haste by our friend Jessica, who also works with Carrie. It was at Buca di Beppo, which I highly recommend for any Italian food enthusiasts. Anyway, some of Carrie's friends from work came out, as well as my friends from SHOEBACCA, and Justin and Glynda as well. We had a great time, and got some great gifts!

5 August 2008: We returned to the doctor for our weekly visit, and everything seems to be just peachy. Our doctor informed us that she will be on vacation next week, so we'll be meeting with a different doc next week. I'm sure that Carrie felt the same sense of "Uh-oh" that I did, but then again, it's not like we've been seeing this doctor for months... I don't expect the baby to come next week anyway. Of course, that being said, I didn't expect the baby to come in August, either...

We're preparing things at home as much as we can. The crib should be in soon, and I am off to meet a woman after work who I am buying some things from. Again, Craigslist. It's the shizznit.

On a side note from our prenatal saga, Darrel and Michelle had their boy the other night. He's a premie, but mom and the boy (Oliver Michael) are doing very well. Darrel finally got some sleep, too. He said that they are expecting to have Oliver in the hospital for at least three weeks, and hopefully Michelle will be getting out Friday. Say a prayer for them, and if you want to see some pics of the wee lad and for more information, read my blog on the Tone Def All-Stars page here.

One Love,
D