On December 2nd, 2014 I received a phone call letting me know that I was going to accomplish one of my biggest goals in life. While working I received a phone call from my wife, saying “I’m pregnant.” Granted I didn't have the best enthusiasm because of being in the middle of work and I simply said “ Cool, we’ll talk when I get home.” I promise, I was way more excited when it really hit me.
But from that day, until August 2nd, 2015 I was one of the happiest people on the face of this earth-of course with a mix of “oh shit” and “Can a 22 year old KID really be responsible for something that’s so special?”
Let’s fast forward to the sentimental stuff from July 31st to August 2nd, 2015.
My father was in town from Seattle, Washington, and it was a very late night since I was nervous about my wife having to be induced. I was also scared to fail much like my father did… Even though my parents went their separate ways and I was 3,000 miles away for most of my childhood, my father wanted to speak to me on the subject of how to be a father, and how to protect and serve my family. He wanted me to comprehend every mistake he ever made and be a good husband and a good father.
I put my pregnant wife and my ten pound guard dog to sleep and held back tears about being parents… finally. But as I sat there playing NHL 2015 in my underwear and socks and stole one of my Dad’s beers from the the fridge.. he crept up the stairs as if I put him in timeout. He spoke softly and asked me to talk, and of course I wanted to talk. It was kind of like one of those movies with the “big talk” and informative conversation about what to expect or what I signed up for.
The Big Day:
August 1st, 2015 at around 10 A.M., we had to be on our way to Magee Women’s Hospital in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Of course, my father and his current wife were a little slow paced since they lived life as if it were still 3 hours behind. So my dog Brody, my wife, and I were on our way to the hospital. I kept thinking to myself “How in the hell am I… Arthur Anderson going to be a father when three years ago I joked about being married and having a family?” But unlike the movies, everything wasn’t a slow-mo action scene from a Bruce Willis film. It was hit after hit like a goal line stance at a 90’s Bills game.
So my wife’s Aunt and Uncle, my dad, my step mom, my pregnant wife, and myself went up to the 2nd floor and checked in for our delivery room. I rubbed my face, took off my hat, and looked over the railing and saw nothing but moms, babies and dads carrying car seats and quite honestly I was scared as hell, heart beating out of my chest, cold sweats, just thinking about a tough past, and hoping that I wouldn't fail.
I’m guessing we waited over an hour for a room, and of course we were picky since my wife wanted a natural birth, so we relocated to a room with a tub. We got settled in and I helped my wife with whatever it was she needed. My wife and I had a moment where we both knew that we were ready to be parents but also so nervous for what the next few hours had in store.
Fast forward a few hours. The day shift nurses got on my last nerve. The night shift came on and checked on my wife’s progress, and mainly the midwife was there and we were excited since she did a lot of our previous appointments i.e. cervix checks and etc. My wife and I sat there and just watched the Pirates play the Cardinals on a cool rainy night and of course McCutchen was not clutch during that game but I sure as hell knew I had to be clutch when it came to getting our baby out of my wife so I could hold him. (selfish but I’m excited too!) The midwife came in to check in with us and also discussed the idea of a code word for my wife to say if she for some reason couldn’t take the pain of her Natural Childbirth, so we decided on our dog’s name which is Brody. If she said that word, we knew she was caving and wanted the epidural. Roughly around 1 P.M., when the day had started, they put the Misoprostol in my wife’s cervix and less than an hour she felt contractions… Later on that night, around 11:30, the stripped her membranes to keep things moving. We walked what felt like thousands of laps around the L&D unit, and then at 1:30am, they broke my wife’s water. Because she was diagnosed with Polyhydramnios (too much fluid), when they broke her water… There was A LOT.
Funny side note, my stupid self wanted to take a nap and catch some Z’s before the big push, after they broke her water… I didn’t realize things we’re going to get moving so fast, but as you can figure I was in it for the long haul.
I remember the contractions, the screams, and the squeezing of my hands and how she just wanted to be done with this whole labor thing and just wanted to push. But of course there was this process which is what I’ll explain from my point of view.
First it was the big red yoga ball which looked like Clifford the big Red Dog’s chew toy. She bounced and bounced over and over again after they broke her water, and more water poured out as if she peed the bed… I was right there holding her in my arms and we bounced together. (wasn’t harmony or dancing in the rain I’ll tell you that now hah!) Our MW came in and asked us what we wanted to do and my wife piped up and said lets try and get into the tub. So in doing so we made a trail of towels as my wife leaked amniotic fluid everywhere, I undressed her and our midwife ran the bath and we got her in there, and she kept contracting and contracting like it was no one’s business.
My wife’s contractions were so rough on her body she kept dozing off during the short breaks between them. So after that, my wife was only in a bra and nothing else and scurried her pregnant butt back onto the hospital bed for a brief moment and the pain was too intense when she got into that position on the bed, so quickly we switched to standing up and leaning on the food tray that the hospital provides for the rooms. From my point of view I had to hold her hips like we were Bump and Grinding to an R.Kelly song. Clearly that wasn’t the case. Every time she contracted, I had to push in and up on her hips to alleviate the pressure on her from the back labor. I did everything I could do to be helpful, and the night time nurses and the midwife were helpful because they not only calmed my wife down but they calmed my happy ass down too.
So, in the meantime, when my wife was at about 6 cm for dilation of her cervix and they gave her four shots of sterile water injections into her lower back to help with the back labor… and I’ll just say she screamed bloody murder and my stupid self said “shhhh honey it’s okay.” She probably would of slapped me if she had the power and energy too but luckily for me at that moment, she was pregnant, and exhausted. She told me right then not to dare tell her to be quiet. I listened.
After that didn’t work for long, it felt like a lifetime she was stuck on 8 centimeters dilated, then 8.5, finally we were approaching ten and we both were so thankful but around this time it was time for shift change and our midwife decided to stay and help us so for that I’m forever grateful. (and if I ever win the Powerball she’s getting a chunk.)
My wife educated herself and used gravity to help move the baby along, with her face at the head of the bed and her lower half towards the foot of the bed, on her hands and knees to push.
I’ll keep this short because I don't want to invade my wife’s privacy and ruin a cherished moment in my life, but she kept pushing and screaming, and swearing her butt was about to explode.
As she was getting closer to the “ring of fire,” she was biting me harder and harder and almost made me bleed, but I held onto her hand as did the other nurse who was also a trooper. Our midwife also kept giving us updates about how close we were to being parents as she pushed, while our son was crowning, and I broke down. I won’t lie to anyone who reads this... I cried like a little kid. 20 percent of me was excited to hold my son, the other 80 percent of me flashed through all the tough times in my life and where I was before I met my wife, who I like to refer to as the woman who saved me. They were all tears of joy, and there were a lot of them.
After all of the hardships in labor and pain endured, my wife never once mentioned the code word that would've meant she wanted the epidural, and our baby boy Brooks Callahan Anderson was born at 10:01 A.M. on a beautiful Sunday morning. She had the natural birth that she had dreamed of. (Minus the back labor.)
Post Birth:
After my son was born, the nurses and everyone wanted to grab at him, measure him and record his weight, and the midwife let my wife have skin to skin with our son for 60 minutes after he was born. Just so you know, the midwife and the nurses had different bosses and procedures on what needs to be done versus what was wanted to be done but of course as being the parents of Brooks, and having a hell of a midwife to advocate for us- we got our way. Our boy was 8 lbs. 7.6 ounces & 21.25 inches long. Overall, we were just caught up in the moment and I couldn’t have thanked the midwife enough for helping us both through this long 18 hour adventure called childbirth.
Of course there were some nurses who were just insensitive to what we wanted and there were those who were insensitive from a family perspective. But as we let a select few into our room to meet our son there was this sudden dad moment in my mind that just told everyone to get out, and to tell the nurses to banish all family members to this far away castle called our postpartum room.” The nurses who checked Taylor after she gave birth came and gave us some advice and overall checked her to make sure that she was okay. I can honestly say I changed his first diaper, and I was there to help ask or answer questions while my wife slept.
I understand we are first time parents, but my wife did all the research and we were as prepared as any 22 year olds could be. What scared me the most, was when a social worker showed up to the door of our room. I got scared that they thought we weren’t fit to be parents or someone like, adopted our kid without consulting us. Luckily it was nothing like that. They check on everyone.
Saving the best for last, my happiest moment(s) was when we met the lactation Consultant and she said; “Well since you are exclusively breast feeding I guess you can call yourself a Breastaurant.” I was cracking up at that, and my wife and I still joke around and throw that around. The ultimate happiest moment though, was when I ran my happy self to the elevator and ran to the car to get that green and black Graco carrier that we waited nine months to use. I came back to our room with it, and it was finally time for my wife, Brooks, our dog Brody, and myself to be a bigger family.
My experience is a memory I’ll never forget and I’ll gladly talk to anyone who reads this. On the subject of my wife going with a natural birth, I supported it 110 percent from the beginning. No, I didn’t read any books, I didn’t educate myself because I like to read books that you can color in. My wife did her research and talked it over with me, and given the circumstances of her medical history she truly did not want a needle in her back for a very solidifying reason in my eyes. There really wasn’t a question about what I wanted my wife to do during childbirth… I wasn’t the one pushing him out and ultimately I felt like I had no say in what she wanted. I was there to be supportive in what she wanted. If a woman gets an epidural it does not mean you're weak or pathetic, so don’t think for a second that if you don’t go natural then you don’t understand childbirth… I simply supported my wife in what she wanted, and I’d support her if that was what she wanted regardless. If a woman gets a C-section whether it be electively or for medical reasons, it doesn’t mean you're not part of the band of motherhood. Me personally, after what I saw and experienced with my wife… I sure as hell wouldn’t be having kids…EVER.
Experiencing natural childbirth with my wife was something neither of us will ever forget. Not saying that birth is any less special when it happens another way, but for us personally, I feel like it made it even more. I was able to participate, and be actively involved in a way that I never imagined possible. Sure, I had bruised arms from her squeezing and even biting me at one point to get through the pain as she pushed, but it was all worth it. It brought us closer as husband and wife, and gave us the most amazing experience. It was empowering for us both, and for me especially to see first hand what the female body is capable of powering through and accomplishing. I can only hope with our future children, that we have an equally amazing experience, minus the back labor for my wife's sake.
Yes, we vaccinated our son, which some people don’t agree with. We agreed it was in our son’s best interest, and yes our son is circumcised because it’s what we wanted… Granted there is no medical reason for doing so or not doing so, it was just a preference we wanted and discussed. In regards to my wife breastfeeding, with no use of pacifiers or bottles, that is a choice she made and I simply nodded my head and agreed to it. We felt it was the best choice for our family in the end. This does not mean we think you are a bad parent for choosing to use them, or that we think less of you. It’s how we chose to parent and I’d like to hope that you would not pass judgment on my wife and I choosing to parent this way.
There is no right or wrong way on how to parent, there is no right or wrong way to give birth, and in my opinion there is no right or wrong to feed your baby whether it be formula or breast milk, from a bottle or a woman’s breast. It’s just our take and taste on how we want to do things, and what we felt was best. I do hope that more and more mothers and fathers become more and more educated on labor and delivery as much as we did and continue to do, because it’s benefitted us both tremendously.
Overall, my wife and I worked as a team and we made/are making the choices we believe will most benefit our son and future children.
I’ll end it on this note for any future or current parents; I’ll answer any questions or have a discussion on how I feel about all the controversial subjects regarding giving birth, and how to take care of your children. I’m a proud parent who supports my wife every step of the way, and even 110 percent supports my wife breastfeeding in public. I sure as hell support dad’s babywearing their kids in carriers i.e. Tula’s, because I do it, and It doesn’t bother me if another man says that I’m losing my man card. I was there every step of the way, and I rose to the occasion when it came time to be there physically and emotionally for my wife. In the end, that’s what matters most.
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