Parent log 00-001
Dear Baby Girl,
Happy Birthday!!! I hereby declare that you shall henceforth be called Charlotte Mae Gindt…. Well really, your mom declared that to me a few months ago, but lets just pretend that my statement above was fairly official. I tried to extort her into letting me name you Zelda, but that is a story for a different day.
I am indescribably joyful about your entrance into my life. It is also very apparent, that the feeling is shared by all of your new family. I say this because, I can think of no other reason that the majority of your grandparents would dare disobey your mom’s very clear directions that “We will not be having visitors until we get into our postpartum room”.
It is safe to say that today has been both one of the greatest and hardest days of my life. The pure elation I felt hearing your first cries, is something I will never forget. Unfortunately, I will probably never be able to forget the feelings of fear, worry, and loneliness, that followed the nurses putting oxygen tubes on you.
You were brought into this world by what I would call a “crowd” of medical professionals, so there was no shortage of people present to tell me that this is not entirely uncommon. They told us you were making hooting noises, which is apparently newborn for “I could use a little bit more oxygen over here…… “
Despite the lack of worry on anybody elses face, in my own head I was losing my shit. eventually they did wheel the little cart, with you riding in a tupperware tote, to your mom and I, so that we could hold you. Enduring a tornado of emotion, we said happy birthday Charlotte, kissed your fuzzy little head, and let them kart you to the NICU.
It was on your maiden voyage aboard the s.s. Rubbermaid that you would have seen your first 2 visitors, who had somehow managed to sneak past security into the lobby across the hall from our room.
Despite our efforts to keep you to ourselves for a little while, the secret was now out that you had arrived, and phone calls and messages began pouring in to coordinate when everybody would be allowed to come visit you. The first phone call was from the third disobedient grandparent who informed us she was downstairs in the giftshop killing time until she got our message.
There was a short wait before I was told that I could take the visitors up to see you in the NICU. Oddly enough this is where i was finally able to relax. I got my first real visit with you, and the nurse was able to give me more information about your breathing. She said you had a pneumothorax, which is air in your chest that is not in your lungs. It prevents you from being able to take full breaths, and goes away over a few hours or days.
Seeing you plugged into a bunch of machines with breathing tubes was difficult, but i now knew everything was going to be ok. On top of that I had a screen with your oxygen levels and heart rate confirming everything was indeed ok. Now with my paralyzing fear subsided, I was able to enter giddy daddy mode, and start snapping some pictures of you.
When i finally felt satisfied with my photo selection, I decided to run back to tell your mom the good news. She had just finished showering, and was happy to hear all about you.
With the chaos complete, it was time for me to escort our first set of visitors out, so your mom could finally get some rest, and i could get some food.
It is at this point I made a mental note to inform every expecting father to pack a ton of food/snacks for the hospital stay. It for some reason had not occurred to me that this process could include 18 hours of not leaving your mom’s side for food. It had also not occurred to me that my choices for food would be significantly restricted on Thanksgiving and Black Friday.
After a premade sandwich and jell-o in the cafeteria(note to self: buy more jell-o), I joined your mother up in your room in the NICU. Your mom was holding you while you slept, and everything finally felt right. I curled up in a ball on the tiny couch in your room and slept for the first time in almost 2 days.
….
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BEEPING! NOISES! PANIC! WHATS WRONG!!!!….. Oh..it’s my phone, your second round of visitors has arrived.
Since we can only have 3 visitors at a time, your mom and I need to go down to the postpartum room and bring them up in small groups. It is also at this time that I realize that my inability to spell may be genetic, since nearly everybody misspelled your name on the NICU sign in sheet. I also very nearly had to banish one of your visitors to prevent them from unbundling you to play with your tiny feet. I get it because your tiny feet are adorable, but you’ve had a rough day, and you were happy in your little burrito blanket.
It’s time for everybody to leave and let your mom rest. I was given the option of joining the departing visitors, for actually edible food, and selfishly accepted the offer. It was meant as a celebration meal, but I was immediately sad that I was leaving even for a short period of time. I know it was a chance to let your mom sleep, and opportunity to further brag about you, but I didn’t get the same satisfaction without you and your mother.
When I returned to the room, your mom had just gotten back from feeding you. She said that the nurses would come wake her in a few hours to come back up to the NICU and feed you again, but in a few hours it will no longer be your birthday, and we get to start a whole new day as a new family.
