To Noah, about your birth

It's Noah's first birthday! And here are some details of the blessed event.

Written November 15, 2004

Dear Noah,

You are a constant surprise. Little did I know that the night I wrote you your first letter, you were already planning your entrance. On Wednesday November 3rd your father and I had vegetarian chili for dinner, watched TV and went to bed around 11:30 pm. At 12:30 am. I woke up wet. My first thought was that I had passed gas in my sleep and peed myself. Classy, huh? I went to the bathroom and when the water kept coming I called to your father. "Mark... Mark... I think my water broke." We were really dumbfounded because you were not due for over two more weeks. I called the doctor's office and they told us to go to the hospital. We gathered our stuff and headed downtown. On the way to the hospital I started getting contractions at about 1 am.

When we got to the preliminary examination ward they hooked you and me up to monitors. My contractions were coming fairly regularly but they weren't too strong, they weren't too close together and I was only 1-2 centimeters dilated. They gave us two options - they could take us over to Labor & Delivery immediately and start me on a pitocin drip to make my contractions stronger and to help me dilate, or they could put us in a room for the night and we could hopefully get some sleep while my contractions hopefully regulated naturally. We opted for the room as I really wanted to have you without many medical interventions unless necessary. Your Dad got a cot and caught Zzss but my contractions were too distracting and I was too nervous and excited to get any sleep.

Early in the morning I got a tray of clear foods (yum!) for breakfast and they moved us over to Labor and Delivery. Unfortunately my contractions were still not regulated and I was not dilated so they put me on the pitocin drip around 9 am. It was already looking to be a long day since I had technically been in labor for eight hours and not much had changed. It took them three tries to put in my IV, I nearly passed out, and it was one of the worse parts of your delivery. Dad and I played Skipbo and talked. He was very calming, entertaining and patient. By the time Grandma Carol showed up at 1 pm I was in a lot of pain. Grandma was fast and furious with the questions – she wanted to know everything that we going on. The combination of the pain, my lack of sleep, and that the finish line was not in sight caused me to request an epidural after making it through twelve hours of labor without one. I was really afraid of the spinal needle, but at the time the pain was so great I put my fear aside. The epidural went fine and from 2 pm until about 7 pm I was feeling no pain. I tried to doze off a bit but I was too excited.

Because my water had broken they didn't do too many pelvic exams to check how dilated I was, because to do so would introduce possible infection into the birth canal. The many friendly doctors and nurses told me to let them know when I started feeling intense pressure "in your bottom." Though the epidural took away the pain of the contractions it didn't take away the intense pressure created in the pelvis when it got close to the end. I told the staff that I was feeling incredible pressure and they were like "YAY! That is fantastic!" I didn’t feel as exciting as they made it out to be. At 7:30 pm it was go time. Your Dad and Grandmom helped hold my legs while I started trying to push you out. The doctors told me to take breaks, but the pressure was so intense I wanted you out immediately. I didn't yell at your Dad or curse, just grunted and doubted my ability to do it. At one point I was so tired I said "Can't you just go in there and get him?" But I only had to push for 25 minutes, and out you came. They immediately put you on top of me and your Dad cut the cord. You were SO beautiful. Everyone was so stunned at how alert you looked, how healthy, how perfect. I am tearing up just thinking about it. Your father was overwhelmed by the whole experience. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to watch the whole birth but he was transfixed by it, as was Grandmom. We got you nursing immediately, so we could start you off right and forge that bond. You weighed 7 pounds, 12 ounces and were 20 inches long. And though you were born at exactly at 8:00 pm on Thursday, November 4, 2004, just in time to watch Survivor Vanuatu as I had requested, I was too preoccupied with you to watch the show.

We stayed in Pennsylvania Hospital until Saturday morning. Everyone was really great. You had a lot of visitors too - Jen Oliver, Grandpa Joe, Jen McCleaf, Tracey Coyle, Grandpa Martin & Sylvia. Everyone thought you were absolutely precious.

You had a little trouble nursing at first, but only until my milk came in, but the conflicting advice from all the lactation consultants and nurses made me a little edgy. You had a little bit of jaundice so we had to go to the hospital lab and pediatrician the two days after we got home to make sure your billirubin levels didn't get out of control. But for the most part you were perfectly healthy. Your Dad kept needing reassurance that in fact everything was okay.

Those nineteen hours of labor, the stitches, the stretch marks, and the baby pouch - are all trivial inconveniences when I look at you. Your Dad and I fawn over you constantly - your little toes, fingers, mouth and ears. It's not easy to have a newborn - but we are doing pretty well. Your father is, as always, amazing. He gets more sleep during the night so when we nap during the day he takes care of the chores around the house - makes sure we don't want for anything. And he is far better with you than I am when you are crying uncontrollably. He sings you songs and walks the floor with you patiently - when you you are crying and I can't fix it I feel sad and soon we are both crying. Your Dad is SO affectionate with you and SO proud. His father isn't a very affectionate person so it is really miraculous to see your father dote on you. I pray you will always be close - that he will always unabashedly shower you with affection without doubting himself.

You were very sleepy this first week. We call you Count Milkula because you don't seem fond of the light and you nurse a lot. We call you Bee-bo, the Turtle King, Boobert, and other assorted silly names. We haven't been able to figure out how to put you down quite yet. You are always in our arms and I sleep at night with you nestled on my chest like a little marsupial. I have been sleeping propped up a bit with you snuggled in - the position is probably not great for my back, and your Dad isn't getting much cuddling, but just having you there makes my heart melt. And though we have to transition you to sleeping in your co-sleeper bassinet soon, I know I will miss having you sleeping on me. Part of the reason we haven't been able to let you sleep in the bassinet is because you wake yourself up by waving your arms about whenever you are on your back You have remarkable arm strength for a baby and you may be an escapist later in life. Whenever we try to swaddle you, you jerk around until you liberate your hands because you prefer to have them up by your head. You don't suck your thumb, but you have to have your hands in front of your face constantly.

You have another pediatrician appointment tomorrow and we have a million questions - about the rash you have on your butt, your belly button, etc. We are so paranoid that we aren't doing things right but I am sure we will figure it all out.

We found a picture of your Dad at ten days old and I think you look almost identical to him so it will be interesting to see how you look as you grow.

You have changed our lives overnight. The sleeplessness, chaos and lack of social interaction at this point are all very small prices to pay to have something so wonderful to devote our time to.

We love you Noah McCormack Eggerts. We love you unconditionally and forever.