Words cannot describe the feeling of watching your child being born into this world. It is a feeling of overwhelming surprise and astonishment. You feel excited, yet fearful; courageous, yet paranoid. And any dad that has been there knows that feeling, and also knows that words cannot fully explain the experience of watching your child’s birth. They simply don’t do it justice. It’s a sight that every father must see for himself to fully understand its significance and embrace its beauty. For those of you who read Courtney’s last blog, you know that I was given the honor of writing about our newest adventure for your reading pleasure. Though I am not my wife and may not be able to entertain you as she can, I will do my best. I am going to narrate you through the epic tale of how Weston Howard Gross came to be in this world from Dad’s perspective. It’s an untold story never been heard until now. It’s a story of vivid imagery and graphic detail. It’s a story that I share with you from my point of view. So fasten your seat belts and hang on to your hats. We are about to embark on a journey you will never forget (at least maybe until you fall asleep tonight). Reader’s discretion is advised.
My journey begins on Monday afternoon in downtown Dallas at Energy Plaza on Floor 27. I just started my new position working for the Air Compliance section of the same Environmental Services Department I’ve been working for the last 2 ½ years. The day was crowded with a few meetings and various tasks that I’ve been trying to wrap up so that I feel comfortable leaving the group for a while after the birth of my son. Needless to say, at this point there were still plenty of things left on my “to do” list and they weren’t getting accomplished nearly as fast as I’d like them to. At around 2:15 that afternoon, my wife sends a text to me saying “Nothing critical but call me when you can”. Knowing my wife and how calm she can stay during intense situations, I began to assume things could be getting serious being as we’re less than a week away from our due date. So I gave her a quick call but I had a 2:30 meeting so I could not chat for long. The minute she answered the phone, I knew something was different. A sense of excitement was laced throughout her usual tired, 2:30 on Monday afternoon, ready to go home type of tone. She calmly tells me that she has “sprung a leak” (use your imagination folks) and that she was headed home to investigate this issue further. Well at this point, my heart is racing and work is really the last thing on my mind. But I’ve got a pretty important 2:30 meeting that would require my undivided attention, and my brain can only handle 1 major task at a time. I go to the meeting anyhow but I’m texting my wife every few minutes trying to get fresh updates on her condition. At around 3:00pm, she tells me that she had spoken with a doctor and they want her to go to the hospital immediately to confirm if her water had indeed broke. It was at this point that my coworkers and boss were probably a bit confused as to why I abruptly left an important meeting without giving them much indication as to why I was leaving. Sorry about that for those of you who might be reading this. I grabbed my computer, keys, and hit the elevator running.
Fortunately, I drove to work that day instead of riding the commuter train. Actually, I had planned on driving that whole week to ensure I could leave promptly in case this event occurred during the middle of the day. And boy, am I glad that I did. I honestly might have set a new record time forgetting from downtown Dallas to Arlington. I turned my flashers on and drove an average of 90 mph in the HOV lane the whole way making it in roughly 13 to 15 min. I made it home, grabbed our already packed hospital bags, and squealed out the driveway racing towards the hospital. As I’m driving I began to make my calls from our phone tree we had designed. It’s funny how everyone seemed so calm when I told them. As for me, I’m panicking wildly as I weave in and out of traffic like a running back dodging defenders trying to score a touchdown. Thoughts and images of my wife squeezing our little booger out before I get there are all I can think about. I’m really surprised that this entire time I have not run across a cop. I must have broken numerous traffic laws. Laws like speeding, passing in the turning lane, talking on the phone in a school zone,running red lights, and reckless driving were just a few. But alas, I finally make it to the hospital. I fishtail into the parking lot, slide into a spot (or two), and sprint towards the door just praying that I made it in time.
As I enter the automatic doors to the Medical Center of Arlington’s Women’s Center, a sleepy security guard was the first thing I see in my panicked state. I must have scared him half to death as I ask him boldly,“Where’s my wife?” He slowly opens his heavy eyes, peers them in my direction, and calmly says to me, “Sir, there’s a lot of women here giving birth right now. I’m afraid I don’t know which one of them is yours.” As I write this now I realize how comical it was. At that point however, there was no time for jokes.He directed me towards the triage area where the nice receptionist kindly let me into the back where Courtney apparently was. As I entered the door, I spoke with a nurse who led me to where my wife was being checked out. At this point,my heart is racing. My nerves are on edge. I have no idea what I’m about to walk into. She opens the curtain and there I see her. She’s smiling ear to ear, laughing hysterically, and carrying on with the triage nurse’s like an old women’s sewing circle gabbing about their lazy husbands. What a relief! Here I am freaking out about my wife going into labor without me and as it turns out, she’s having as much fun as a group of women crowded inside a Chip N’ Dale's show.
The next several hours are a little blurry. Her amniotic sac had indeed been broken and the process of labor had technically begun. At this point however, she was not having any labor contractions. This could really only mean one thing….it was going to be a long night. They began to give her Pitocin and told us this would speed up the process. Then there’s the waiting. Various family members visited us in the room throughout the evening as we wait in the lonely delivery room just waiting on our boy to get here. They told her she couldn’t eat or drink anything except ice chips until the birth was finished, but it was becoming evident that it was going to be a while. Well as any pregnant women can tell you, not being able to eat or drink anything for possibly 13 to 15 hours straight doesn’t sit too well with them. Good thing for her, she had me to sneak her French fries, gummy bears, and quick gulps of water when she could. Shh…we won’t tell anyone that.
The hours pass by as we get closer and closer to the arrival of our son. The anxiety begins to build again like it did when we first got there. As I watch the nurse begin to prep the room for delivery, my heart rate elevates and my palms begin to get sweaty. The moment was drawing near, I could tell. It’s as if you’re back to your glory days about to take the field for a playoff game against a most formidable opponent. My wife confirms my suspicion as she begins to feel stronger pressure in and around the holiest of hole’s (if you catch my drift). The lights are down, the stirrups are up, and the “game” is about to begin.
I hold my wife’s arm tightly and we begin the pushing. 3 sets of 10 second pushing intervals at every contraction is the “play” we are running against the tough, stacked defense. I use this metaphor as it seems appropriate. In my mind, we are giving it to the running back right up the middle for small yardage every play. After 3 downs, progression is apparent, and a first down is given. We line up on the ball and do it again. After several first downs, we seem to be driving the ball very well. In metaphorical terms, I’d say we’re deep in the red zone. It’s time to bring in the goal line offense (the doctor), and put this baby in for 6 points. But hold up! We have to go to a commercial timeout. The doctor is in the middle of delivering another baby in another room close by. Kind of a hard spot to get held up in, don’t you think? All of this progression, all of this momentum, and on the 5 yard line we wait. Ugghhh…. But after a few minutes of waiting, the doctor struts in the door like he was Brad Pitt on the red carpet. Apparently, he had finished his other duties with the other mommy and our game can now continue. On 1st down we push for a few yards and on 2nd down we push for a few more. It’s 3rd and goal on the 1yd line. The play comes in from the side line. We’re going with a QB sneak and we’re giving it all we got. All or nothing! Right here, right now! Down…set…hut....
………….
Helen Keller once wrote, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched- they must be felt with the heart.”Now I fully understand what the woman is trying to explain here and undoubtedly she is right. But the origin of the greatest and most beautiful thing that I have ever experienced in my life came from watching by son exiting from a small orifice of my wife’s body and into the hands of a man I met just a few minutes before. The image is not for the faint of heart, though it’s kind of like a train wreck and it just seems impossible to look away. I’m sure glad I didn't. It turned out to the most amazing thing that I’ve ever witnessed. We scored that touchdown on June 11, 2013 at 5:06am. Weston Howard Gross came boldly into this world at 8lbs and 11oz. He was full of life, full of hair, and full of love from his extremely emotional parents. I must admit, I cried like a baby. It was the best thing that has ever happened to me. It hit like a lightning bolt coming from the heavens in an open green pasture. Simply beautiful!
I fast forward now to Wednesday night, June 19, 2013 on our bedroom floor. I’m laying here typing this story from memory with smiles and occasional tears in my eyes. Everybody should have a great story to share with the world-this is mine. A lot has happened in this last week. We’ve had family, neighbors, and coworkers comment on our little guy. It just makes Mommy and Daddy so proud. Raising a child may very well be most rewarding thing I will ever do. A good partner will make that easier. I am lucky to have that very thing. I’m reminded of how good a mother my wife is constantly. Sometimes I’ll catch her crying just holding him tightly to her chest. It makes me realize just how good this kid is going to have it.
I close now with a few words to my son. Weston, from the moment we knew you would join us in this world, you were deeply loved. From the moment I first held you in my arms, I knew what I was meant to do in this life. You are a the very symbol of innocence (at least for now (: ). I am going to love watching you grow up in front of my eyes, God willing. I will always be there for you, even when you’re being a stinker. You make me proud, son. I love you always!
