Seriously, Megan wasn't even pregnant the last time I wrote in this thing. Now we have the most adorable baby in the world and neither of us has a job. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to take things back to the very beginning. Before I begin, I must say that I wish I had written this right after the baby was born. It's unfortunate when you have to look back on a monumental experience and try and capture it with the same emotions you felt at the time. Let that be a lesson: write about stuff while it's still fresh.So it was October of 2009 when all this madness began. Megan and I had talked about getting pregnant before, and we knew that it wouldn't be too much longer when we would officially be trying, but nothing had really been said. Anyway, we had purchased some pregnancy tests and hadn't used one yet. On Friday night, Megan had a dream about being pregnant. On Saturday morning we were watching the first session of General Conference. Megan couldn't shake this idea of being pregnant, and between the morning and afternoon sessions, she decided to use one of the tests. She wasn't gone very long, but when she came back she seemed a little shaky. She dropped the test on my desk, and when I saw the plus sign, we embraced, laughed, and one of us cried some tears of joy though I won't say which. It was very hard to pay attention during the next session of conference, even though I was taking detailed notes for my seminary classes.
On Sunday we broke the news to Megan's family over dinner, and I called my family on the drive back. I must say it felt good to be telling people that we were going to have a baby. It feels like you've arrived. When you get married, it's like you've joined this awesome club of people who know exactly what you're talking about when you sit around and talk like boring married people do. When you have a baby, you just jumped up to a new level in that club. Also, as a stage of life thing, it feels much better to tell people I'm 30 when I have a wife and kid than it would if I was single. It just makes me feel like I've made some correct choices along the way.
With the news broken and everybody wishing us well, we had only to let that little mass of cells in Megan's belly divide again and again and turn into a fully-fledged baby. It seemed pretty simple, especially considering the fact that all Megan had to do was eat and metabolize. That just goes to show that neither of us knew exactly what to expect on the wild roller coaster known as pregnancy.
Megan soon found herself inflicted with all the horrible effects of morning sickness which were also accompanied (at varying times and degrees) by mid-morning sickness, elevensies sickness, high noon sickness, mid-afternoon sickness, the part of the day where no pair of sunglasses and car visor will ever block the fiery rays of an angry sun sickness, dusk sickness, night sickness, and I haven't slept at night so don't you dare tell me it's morning now sickness. To put it bluntly: she threw up a lot. Her record was 10 times in a single day. Beat it if you dare. It got to the point where seemingly inoffensive things like breathing and water were enough to make her sick. I kid you not. Breathing and water.
If any of you have ever been on the Pioneer Trek, you must know that I now understand why the women's pull is a necessary experience for the young men. Nothing else that I have ever experienced in my life prepared me as well for the experience of watching my wife be completely at the mercy of her own body. There wasn't a thing I could do, so I did what I could. And remember, we haven't even gotten to the birth yet. This is just the price of admission you pay to get to the birth. I couldn't be more proud of Megan. You would think I play for the San Antonio Spurs the way I whine when I have a simple cold. I couldn't imagine throwing up hundreds of times over the better part of a year. Much respect to women for enduring the things they have to endure.
So Megan's constant sickness made a few things difficult. First of all, she could only throw up
certain foods once because afterward she found them completely repulsive. She would stay in the opposite end of the house if I was cooking something she had previously thrown up. And with the number of times she got sick, the list of acceptable foods shrunk to almost nothing. The second difficulty that came as a result of sickness was that when Megan isn't feeling well, she doesn't like to be touched, hugged, kissed, talked to etc. So I really had nothing in my bag of tricks to help her feel better. It was a tough time for both of us.As Megan progressed in the pregnancy, she kept looking for the time when she would start feeling better, as did I. Over time she wasn't sick as often or as violently (she once burst a blood vessel in her eye from violent puking), but I don't think she had a single week during the whole pregnancy in which she didn't puke at least once. I'll bet she'll love all this stuff I'm writing about the puking, but it really was a major part of the pregnancy and affected all aspects of our lives.
When Megan finally started really showing, she was able to enjoy being pregnant a little more. She had always wanted to feel the sensation of having a tiny person living inside. Frankly, that's just the sort of thing I hope never happens to me, but Megan couldn't have been more thrilled when our little girl started kicking. If she turns out to be the next Mia Hamm it won't suprise me at all. Leah was very active in the womb. You could often see a little lump move all the way accross Megan's belly. It's like she was practicing bicycle kicks in there.
I should probably mention now that I had discussed with Megan that I wanted a boy. Megan was pregnant with the first Badger baby in our family thus far, as all my sisters have long since taken their husband's last names (shameful, I know). I wanted to make sure that our family name carries on. Anyway, when we had the ultrasound to find out the sex, the doctor pointed at three white specks on the ultrasound (I don't know how to figure those things out, by the way. I could hardly tell which things were baby and which were my wife's innards) and asked if we knew what it meant. We replied that with our limited medical training (I got whatever merit badge you get for knowing CPR and how to tie a tourniquet) we had no idea. He told us, "That's classic girl. You're going to have a little girl." While leaving the office that day, I felt perfectly happy knowing that we were having a daughter. Paul and Carrie can have a buncha boys.As our daughter grew, we discussed possible names. Megan and I both have simple names and we both like simple names, especially Bible names. Megan had always been partial to Leah. The name does have a nice ring to it. We also talked about the middle name Marie, which we know is already the middle name of literally millions of girls and women across the globe. The high occurrence of Marie as a middle name notwithstanding, Megan and I loved the name Leah Marie, and we decided to keep it. It really changes things when you settle on a name. When you pray for the baby to be healthy, you aren't just calling it, "the baby" or even using the pronoun, "it." You get to say "Leah" and "she." It makes the whole thing a lot more real, even though one would think that your wife's puking problem and expanding belly would be proof enough of the reality. The name makes it real that there's a little person in there.
The days dragged on and as Leah's due date approached, the doctor would let Megan know that she wasn't dilating at all. It would appear that we would go past the due date, which was June 3rd. We had a Doctor's appointment right before the due date, and we asked about the possibility of inducing. He told us that they didn't like to do it until at least a week after the due date. So we were told that if Megan still hadn't had the baby on the Tuesday after the due date, they'd set up an appointment to induce on the Thursday. So at least we had a date for Leah to come. At least it would happen soon.
So that appointment was on a Tuesday, June 1st and our next appointment was on Tuesday,
June 8th. At about 4:00 in the morning on Monday, June 7th I was awoken by Megan tapping my shoulder. She had the same sort of teary-eyed smiley-faced expression she had when she showed me the plus sign on the pregnancy test. This time she told me that her water had just broken. Having been prepared for this experience by a lot of book reading and speaking with Megan's Mom and Sisters, we both knew the delivery was probably at least 12 hours away. So we tried unsuccessfully to go back to bed. After a few minutes of futility, I decided to go shopping for the things we would need that we didn't yet have. This killed a little bit of the time.The funny thing about early labor is that it isn't all that intense. Megan's water had broken and she was having contractions but they weren't that strong or close together. We had plenty of time to let the reality of the situation sink in. Seriously, a ridiculously long amount of time to let it sink in. Megan's Mom came over fairly early in the day and helped out quite a bit. Megan's Sister Kish came over a bit later, and was a great relief because she's a labor and delivery nurse.
After 12 hours had passed, we decided to go check into the hospital. It's a pretty funny thing to do when you've seen how it goes down on TV and in movies. Nobody rushes to your car with a wheelchair and takes your wife away. You waltz in there, she meets with a doctor for 15 minutes or so before you even get admitted, then you get admitted and your wife walks herself to the very room where she will experience excruciating pain in the process of bringing a child into the world. There's a lot less fanfare than you'd think, but it's still very exciting. You know that it's all a matter of time before you get to meet this adorable little person who's been elbowing your wife's backbone.
I must stop for a moment and tell you that I've always been terrified of hospitals. If I ever say the
words, "Can you take me to the hospital," you can be assured that I am in a terrible amount of pain. I don't know why, but I've never been able to do hospitals. That being the case, it came as a terrific surprise to me that I wasn't trembling when they led us deep into the bowels of the hospital. I was perfectly at ease, and so was Megan. We even took a little video when we got into the birthing suite, and both Megan and I were laughing, smiling, and joking. There's proof of it on video.As we settled in to the birthing suite, Megan's contractions began to be more intense and closer together. As they did, those of us who were there with her (Carol, Kish, Shannon, and I) would go to our battle stations holding her hands, pushing the pressure points on her thighs, breathing with her, etc. We settled into our positions and bunkered down for what would turn out to be quite a long night.
Megan was contracting more intensely and regularly, but every time the nurses would come in, they would tell us that she still wasn't dilated or hadn't dilated very far. Once again the women's pull came to my mind as Megan was experiencing intense pain and all I could do was hold her hand and tell her she was doing great.
As the night wore on, we all got tired. Kish and Shannon got a little rest and when they got up they told me to go to bed. Our nurse was kind enough to procure a bed for me, and although it was hardly comfortable, it was a place to lay down. I slept for a couple hours and felt a bit like the Apostles sleeping through the Atonement. When I woke back up, I didn't leave Megan's side again until Leah was out.
It was another few long, painful hours before Megan was even ready to begin pushing. The contractions were coming a couple minutes apart and would last up to a minute. After each contraction I would look up at the clock and the hands didn't seem to move at all. I should mention now that Megan had chosen natural childbirth. I can't even imagine how intense the pain was. We all got a little sleep, but Megan really hadn't had any until the nurse offered to give her stadol to help ease the pain of the contractions. After she was given stadol, Megan would be wide awake for her contractions, but would be snoring almost immediately after. She would get a quick 60 seconds of sleep and then go right back to contracting. It was a little funny to watch someone go from extreme pain to dead asleep in a matter of seconds, but I would never have told her that at the time.
Eventually Megan was fully dilated and the nurse called Dr. Holmes. What I didn't know is that the nurses do most of the work and the doctor shows up at the end for the exciting part. Dr. Holmes told the nurse he'd shower up and come over. What we didn't know was how long of a shower he was planning on taking or how far away he lived. We hoped the answer to both was, "not very" because Megan was ready to push and Leah was ready to make her grand debut.
The nurse suggested that Megan get in a few preliminary pushes to make sure she knew how it was to be done and generally get a feel for it. After a few pushes, Leah was crowning. Megan was pretty anxious to get Leah out, but Dr. Holmes wasn't there yet so the nurse had to show her how to not push.
After what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Holmes made an entrance and we got down to business. Once everything was set up, Megan started pushing and things just happened. It was only a few minutes and Leah was out. I thought for sure I would have passed out somewhere along the way, but I handled it surprisingly well. I even cut the cord. Obviously Megan handled it better than anyone. When she was pushing, her sisters said she had a determined look on her face. Here eyes were on the ceiling and as Kish and Shannon tell it, "Megan looked like she was staring the devil in the face." She was certainly determined and all the nurses couldn't help but tell her what an amazing job she did.
Once Leah was out and unattached, they handed her to Megan. They were both so beautiful. It was a sight words can hardly describe. After a minute on Megan's chest, they handed Leah to me. I couldn't believe how bright-eyed and curious she was. She was looking all around the room and taking it all in with wild-eyed wonder. I also noticed she could move her toes independently, just like her mother. If she doesn't someday learn to draw with her feet like her mother does, I'll be surprised. I held her for a minute before they nurses needed her back.The nurses weighed and measured her and she was much bigger than any of us would have
thought. She was 22.5 inches long and weighed 9 lbs. 2 oz. We couldn't believe how much hair she had or how dark it was. Megan and I thought for sure we'd have blonde-haired blue-eyed kids. At least we got the blue eyes right. Leah has beautiful blue eyes and is still as curious as ever.It has been a truly amazing experience to be home for Leah's first days. Nothing can prepare you for how much you'll love your child. Megan and I sneak into her room every night just to see her sleeping. We absolutely adore our little girl and she definitely has me wrapped around her little finger even though she can only now barely wrap all of her little fingers around one of mine.
There is an expression that I use to describe certain life experiences that are supposed to be transcendent or otherworldly. The word is "lifey." What I mean by it is that so many of life's experience, especially the big ones feel exactly like life. There isn't as much fanfare and you certainly don't feel much different. Think about some of life's big experiences: turning 18 feels exactly like 17 did, only you get to eat cake. Going on a mission feels exactly like life, but it happens in a different place. Getting married feels exactly like life. All these experiences are very lifey. That is not to say that they are not wonderful, memorable, or important. Such experience are certainly all these things and more, but at the time it feels just like it feels at almost every other moment in life. It's life. You get older. You go through rites of passage, but a lot of time the growth or change inherent in these events takes time and hindsight to be apparent. Now that you understand the concept of things being lifey I will say this: having a baby is not lifey at all. It's indescribable. It's transcendent. It's otherworldly. It is absolutely unlike any other experience in the world.
Well, I should probably wrap this up. It's been a mammoth post and I've got a wife and a baby to go love. I will say this: I have no idea how often I'll be writing now that I've gotten back on here, but I'll at least try to hit the highlights. I couldn't go much longer without having recorded some of the experience of bringing Leah into the world. Anyway, I close this entry and turn it to my lovely wife who will add all the pictures.
