Evie turned one month just yesterday (Friday). She’s very much aware of her surroundings now, although not quite at the interactive state yet (unless crying and pooping and eating can be considered interactive). Every night after work she greets me by crying for a couple hours. I tried crying back at her and I think she got confused because she started to soothe me…

Got our taxes done; came out even this year so we must be doing something right. This weekend is a tad busy with my work’s web site content refresh going on Sunday night. We didn’t have a lot to do this year unlike past years, but working a Sunday night is still working a Sunday night . Right now I’m uploading a bunch more photos we’ve had queued up; feel free to check them out in the “Evie” photo blog.

That’s about all for now. If you’re in to video editing, check out avid.com tomorrow night when we make our NAB announcements

Born: 07.03.13 12:06 am
Weight: 8lb 4oz
Height: 21 in

It was a long time coming, but the end result was worth it. Beth’s water broke early Sunday morning, but her contractions didn’t begin until around 2pm. It took us all the way to around 10pm on Monday before the doctors felt that Beth could start pushing. Not everything was right, though, and after an hour and a half later Beth was rushed into the operating room for an emergency cesarean section. Those 30 minutes were longer to me than the previous day and a half…standing outside the operating room dressed in scrubs and waiting to be told that I could enter. But I finally got to sit by Beth, and together we heard a sudden baby’s cry, and at last knew that Evelyn Rose was with us in this world.

Will I be able to do everything I need to do in the best way possible? I don’t want to be a hindrance on the process; I want to be an asset. I know that all the effort will be on Beth, and that she will do exactly what she needs. But how will I help? I know what I’m supposed to do, but will I get so caught up in all the activity and bluster that I forget? I know that when I’m thrust into an uncontrollable situation, my mind shuts itself down…I cannot process anything other than the current second of activity. Sometimes that works ok (like when playing basketball or soccer and I’m really just reacting to everything going on at that moment), but in a birth…? I’ve got to be better performing than that because I haven’t got any past experience to fall back upon and let myself react.

Will I get so caught up in trying to make Beth comfortable that when she first lashes out in pain (and I know she will…I mean eight pounds through ten centimeters!) will I feel hurt and suddenly stop enjoying myself? Will I shell up and then be of no use to her? I know that I should just brush off anything she may say or do, and that she’s not rationally thinking when she lashes out (rather she’s reacting to what’s going on with her body and the pain she’s feeling)…but when I’m actually in that situation what will I do?

I want to do everything right. For her and for the baby…and even a bit for our families (I want them to remember the role I play fondly and not with embarrassment or bemusement).

So there’s my nervousness…not so much about concern for the health of Beth or the baby, but over the event. And maybe this will be my big mistake – I’ll get so caught up in my own actions that something unexpected will happen. I won’t pretend to have a special sense and that I somehow ‘know’ that everything will be ok, but I’m really feeling like we know the risks and somehow it just seems like things will go all right for Beth. We already had the bad news with that first miscarriage, and it seems like this pregnancy has been nearly textbook.

So, for the sake of posterity – and so that I can review these thoughts after the birth – I’m going to write down my assumptions of what I think will occur at the birth. I think the future me will re-read these notes and think ‘what a fool – that’s not even close to reality!’.

Beth will get the wide-spread contractions over the course of a day…eventually these will increase in frequency to the point that she’s concerned enough to call the doctor (I don’t think we’ll wait for exactly “five minutes apart”) but once we’re under seven we’re calling). We’ll go to the hospital and they’ll put Beth in the observation room. A few hours later (since we probably jumped the gun), they’ll want to admit Beth. At that point I’ll start calling folk. I’ll also keep asking Beth “how are you feeling? Are you ok? Can I get you anything?” so often that she tells me to shut up. The nurse will go over the details of what we should expect and will probably prompt me from time to time to do certain things – like get some ice chips for Beth. Beth will try walking a bit, but probably find that she’s more comfortable in a crouched, rocking position. And then things will pick up…the doctor will really take charge at that point and Beth will follow as well as she can…I’ll do my best to keep Beth focused on controlling her body until the point where she needs to push. This is where I really don’t know how quickly things will go…I think this could go on for an hour…but I just don’t know. But the kid will be born…and at that moment I won’t change as a person but I will look at everything differently.