Happy Father’s Day!

This is now my second official Father’s Day, although this will be the first one where I feel I’ve spent enough time actually being a father to merit it.  The first time around, my little girl was barely three months old, and much of that time, both her mother and I were around to watch her.  This time, it’s been primarily me for the last year, and I have to say, it has given me a very different perspective on being the stay at home parent.

Growing up, I think we take for granted how much the parent who stays at home had to sacrifice in order to take care of us.  We never grew up with the awareness that the parent who stayed home was just a person like anybody else, who wanted to do their own thing, and who was learning how to do the job of being a parent.  No one is born with parenting skills, and no one hands you a manual once you have a child.  You have to take the time to figure those things out, as well as figure out how to be the person your child needs you to be.

For anyone who tells you having a kid is easy, they’re either teasing you, lying to you, or they’re not very good parents.  Nearly every minute of your day is spent making sure that your kid, especially when they’re little babies, is healthy, happy, learning, and not doing something that would be harmful to them or anything else.  No, you don’t always have to watch them like a hawk and have them in your sight, but you do always have to be ready in case something goes wrong.  You can cut down on some of this if you don’t care about stuff, which is ideal to some extent, since that means you’re not about material goods and whatnot, but I’m not really that much of a Zen Buddhist, so I want to be able to keep my things without having them destroyed at a moments notice. 

With that alertness comes exhaustion, stress, and tough times in your relationship.  Nothing will rankle a stay at home parent more than the parent who goes to work, coming home and saying “What have you been doing all day?”  This has led to more fights than anything since the birth of our child.  Not in those exact words, but no one likes to be questioned about how effective they are when their entire day has been nothing but stress.  When someone comes home and sees a mess, and their spouse unmoving, while the child is happily playing?  That means the spouse did their job of making sure the child is growing up well.  It also means that you can only imagine what a worse mess it would be if the stay at home parent didn’t do what they could. 

I’ll admit, I have found myself in that position more times than not.  It takes me a lot of energy to keep up with my daughter, and at the end of the day, there’s not much left to do the daily chores that need to be done.  I try my best, but it’s hard to focus on what you’re doing when you’re trying to make sure your child isn’t eating something they shouldn’t be, or tearing something down that is important, or just generally being destructive.  They have to do all this while keeping in mind that the child is not doing this intentionally, and that they are just exploring and don’t have the physical capability to be more delicate with things.  I know for myself, that was a hard lesson to learn.  It took nearly everything I had just to make sure my daughter was clean, clothed, fed, and healthy. 

Slowly, I’ve been able to add other things to the list of daily things that I can accomplish.  It’s still a struggle, and I still slip from time to time, but I’m now more on the side of getting things done than not.  Whenever I feel I have a handle on things, I try to add a little more, just to keep the burden off of my wife since she has her job to concentrate on.  I still need her help, but I would like to be able to get it to the point where she can at least relax a little when she gets home from work, instead of having to figure out what’s for dinner and how to get past the giant mound of dirt, dishes, and laundry that used to be waiting. 

As for my little girl, she is still the primary focus of all of this.  She is the reason that I am here, and honestly, she is the greatest source of joy for me now.  Whenever she hits a new milestone, or accomplishes some task that I've seen her working towards, it fills me with a kind of happiness I wasn’t aware I was capable of.   I still remember the squeals of delight that emitted from my mouth when I witnessed her first unassisted steps.  They probably heard me back in the US.  There are still a lot of those kinds of things to look forward to in the future, and much of me being able to witness these moments first hand is because I get to be the stay at home dad.

There are so many things still ahead of us, but I’m going to enjoy the fact that as a dad, I grew a lot this past year.  All the bumps along the way have just served to make me a better person, thankfully, and hopefully, I can pass that on to my little girl.  So to all the dad’s out there who look forward to their kids’ future, happy Father’s Day to you, and regardless if you’re the one who leaves for work, or the one who stays at home, I hope the love that you show to your children is paid back in full all year round.

They Grow up So Fast

Haven’t really written here in a while, as I’ve been in my own head, which tends to flow out on my other blog, but I figure enough time has passed where I have something coherent to say on here.

My little girl has just recently hit 14 months.  The realization of that hit me like a ton of bricks, because it honestly still feels like we just brought her home from the hospital not too long ago.  However, she is developing so quickly, and sometimes, it feels like it’s getting harder and harder to keep up.  Currently, she is standing on her own, cruising (walking while holding onto stationary objects to assist herself) quite efficiently, babbling while learning new words, and generally figuring out how things work, at a rather frightening pace. 

As I watch her day to day, and see how she has developed her motor skills, her recognition of words and gestures, her sense of humor, and her ability to learn the mechanics of day to day living, I’m still at a loss for words that I’m somehow involved in all of this.  Every little advancement is a cause for celebration nowadays, although admittedly, the celebration consists primarily of clapping, oohing and aahing, and squeals of joy from both my daughter and myself.  It’s amazing how much pride you can feel when your little baby does something that we take for granted all of the time, like take a step, bring food to their own mouth, laugh,  or a recent development that has my wife and I bursting with joy, giving kisses to loved ones.  That’s probably the biggest one.  My little girl now knows how to kiss and hug. 

When she first did it, on our trip back home to NYC, we were amazed at how suddenly it came about.  It was completely unexpected, but you could not have seen two happier parents at that moment when she first returned one of our kisses.  Shortly after, it seemed like a lot of her neural pathways began falling into line, because she began picking up other things in short order.  Her overall coordination improved a great deal, her ability to repeat things seemed to increase, and she was beginning to learn how to play games.  Specifically, my mother taught her this little hand gesture game in Cantonese, and she picked it up and responded to it in a very short time.  In fact, she still does it now, despite not having been around my mother for a few weeks, and she’s actually repeating some of the words too, despite not being exposed to Cantonese much except for what she heard from my mother, and what little I’m able to repeat. 

I know I’m just doing the standard new parent gushing, but it really is incredible to me watching her grow as much as she has.  Without really noticing it, my little baby has grown in my little girl, and before I know it, she’ll be my big girl.  While I look forward to it, I’m a bit frightened too, just because I don’t want the time to go by that fast.  There are currently some growing pains, mainly the development of her self-identity, which carries with it some willfullness, as well as some odd moments of crankiness and temper flare-ups.  Overall though, she is the sweetest little thing, and I count myself lucky for having her as my first child. 

That being said, I’ll try to be more active here, as there are plenty of things going on in her life that I think would be interesting to recount.  The hard part is remembering it myself in order to write it down.  My brain is so moment to moment lately, I don’t have the brain capacity to retain the interesting parts for very long.

First Year

So today, we celebrated Tiny Tien’s first full year.  She has left the tutorial stage, and is now level one!  What amazes me the most is how quickly the time has passed.  It felt like just yesterday I found out that my wife was pregnant, and about an hour ago that I was worried about all of the complications that we had run into leading up to her birth.  Now, she’s a full year old, and I have to tell you, it has been a heck of a ride.

First and foremost, I was able to keep her alive for a full year!  For me, that’s a heck of a feat.  I’m sure there was some luck involved, but I’ve been trying my best to make sure she’s safe, healthy, and generally happy.  Her frequent smiles, and her desire to cling to me seems to be a sign that I’m providing her with a safe haven, so that’s good.  Honestly, it amazes me how much she wants to be around me.  She’s already around me most of every day, and yet, even when her mom comes home, she will routinely look for and crawl to me. 

While I’m very happy that she trusts me, and wants to be near me, a part of me is concerned that when the time comes for me to go back to work, it might affect her adversely.  I guess we’ll have to see what happens.  I love spending time with her, but to be honest, I’m getting a bit antsy to return to the workforce.  I’ve learned over the past couple of years that I’ve been here in Japan that I function much better when I have a regular routine that compensates me for my work.  Otherwise, I easily begin to slack off, and generally feel kind of worthless because I don’t feel like I’m contributing anything. 

Yes, I understand how much effort goes into raising a child, and I don’t belittle or discount the amount of work that goes into it (believe me, after this experience, there’s no way in hell I’d ever do that) but to be honest, I just feel that unless I’m actually working at a job earning a paycheck, I’m not doing enough.  Of course, watch me go back to work and start to complain about missing the time with my little girl.  Argh, stupid brain.

Anyway, back to her first year.  It has been filled with a lot of trials and tribulations; things I’d expected, but wasn’t as prepared for as I thought.  Mainly, it has to do with the difficulties in the marital relationship, as I’ve said before that I never expected to be the one at home.  However, we’ve been working those out, and with my daughter growing up well, and being happy, it has made things much easier to handle.  I’m sure if my little girl was cranky, or crying all the time, or generally a much less joyful child, there would be a lot more issues.  However, whether it’s due to her naturally happy disposition, or I’m actually doing something right, her happiness is contagious, and my wife and I are doing much better than earlier on. 

As for the part of raising Rinny, she’s actually been rather simple.  Not easy, because no child is easy, but there have been very little complications along the way.  We’ve gotten her all of her shots, she’s been hitting her milestones pretty much right on time, if not a little early, and her growth is pretty much exactly where it needs to be for her age.  Between those things, and her generally being a very sweet child, I couldn’t ask for a better first kid experience. 

We of course had a little party today for her, even if she doesn’t remember it.  We went so far as to bake her a cake, which she was allowed to have some.  That kind of backfired a little, as all the sugar and things might have upset her tummy, but all in all, it was a very nice day.  We were able to get some friends together, both of the adult and infant variety, so everybody was quite engaged.  She got some absolutely adorable gifts, which there will be pictures of in the near future to be posted on my facebook, and it was just a nice, fun day. 

Everyone absolutely loves her, and I think that’s just part of who she is.  She is really easy to love.  I have yet to meet a person who has been hesitant around her, even if she herself has been a little shy around new people.  Her face and smile just seem to inspire happiness in people.  I hope it’s a quality she maintains throughout her life, as it will serve her well.  I think she will, and my job is to make sure she’s able to hold onto her happiness as much as possible.

It’s been an exciting first year, and I can’t wait to see how things progress from here.  I’m a bit torn because I want to see how she grows up, but I don’t want to lose my little girl at the same time.  I have no choice but to watch her grow up of course, but that’s how being a parent is: hope for the future, but holding onto the present.

11 months

Today is the 11th month of my daughter’s life.  It has been a heck of a time so far.  I figured it’d be a good idea to update people on how she is doing, if you don’t follow me regularly on facebook or something.

So at this point, she is eating solids for 3 meals a day, plus snacks.  She still breastfeeds a few times a day, but she’s slowly lowering her intake of breastmilk, by herself it seems.  She just drinks progressively less and less each time it seems.  This coincides with changes in her digestive system, which any parent will know is an… interesting time.  For those who aren’t parents, lets just say you don’t care and don’t really want to know. 

She’s standing frequently now, and taking a few steps, although she still uses assistance.  Not that she necessarily needs it, because she has a tendency to stand on her own, unassisted, but once she realizes that’s what she’s doing, she’ll immediately sit down, normally with a rather loud thud right on her butt.  It’s very cute, very funny, and a little frustrating, because I would really like her to be able to stand and walk a little on her own.  Can’t force it, but it’d be nice if she got over the fear.

She currently has three teeth, with a fourth just about ready to burst through the gum-line.  This has led her to have a very adorable toothy grin, which she readily shows off.  It’s accompanied by a very funny face scrunch, so that all you see are gums, the teeth, and what can only be described as a “HEEEEEE” face.  I do everything in my power to get her to make this face as often as possible, because it normally comes with a laugh that makes my heart melt.  These are the moments that parents look forward to, and make all the difficulties of having a child worth it.

Speaking of difficulties, her fingernails grow at roughly the same pace that sharks replace missing teeth, and are about as sharp.  In fact, today, she used her fingers to show me a new defensive move.  It involved taking her finger, and jamming it in the space between my eyeball, and the edge of my eye socket, through the skin.  I didn’t realize this was possible until today, and I have to tell you… it hurt like a son of a b*(&^.  In fact, it STILL hurts now, and it’s been about 7 hours since it happened, so I’ll have to remember that should I ever have to defend myself.  It’s effective, and it doesn’t destroy the eye, which is good for me, cause squished eyeballs make me queasy.

Her eyes seemed to have settled in color.  Amazingly, despite being half my child (half-asian) she doesn’t have solid brown eyes.  Her eye color shifts slightly between a light brown and an olive green.  It depends on the lighting, and the clothing she wears, as well as just the day in general, but her eye color isn’t typical, which I think will lead to a very dramatic look for her when she gets older.  It has a very nice effect, and I can’t wait to see how it develops as time goes on.

She’s still not forming coherent words yet, although every now and then, it seems that she’s imitating enough sounds to form words.  She does babble a lot more now than she used to, and she’s not afraid of making those sounds around strangers now, which is good and bad.  Good, because it means she wants to talk.  Bad, because it means she won’t be automatically quiet in public now like she used to be.  She’s still pretty well behaved in public though, but every now and then we have to shush her.  No big deal though, since everyone gives her a pass cause she’s so cute.

That’s really all of the relevant things going on with her.  I’m excited about her getting to her one year birthday, just because it means she’s been with us for a full revolution around the sun.  Also because it means I’ve been able to keep her alive for a full year, which for me, is a pretty good accomplishment.  Heck, I’ve never had a pet I was able to keep alive by myself, so that says something.  Must mean I love her.

But seriously, I do love her a lot.  She’s been an absolute treasure to me since she was born, and every day, she just makes me that much happier to be her daddy.  I honestly never thought I would be capable of that kind of love, and yet I keep surpassing it with every day.  It sounds cheesy as hell, but it’s true.  I’m sure I’ll look back on this when she’s a teenager and cursing my name, and go “Man…I wish for those days” but I get the feeling things will be ok.  Guess we’ll see.  Look for a future update called “13 years… can I quit now?”

Time Passes By Far Too Fast

It’s been quite some time since I’ve posted on here (as I usually go through periods of just not wanting to write) but some big things have been going on, and I felt it was time to do an update.

We are 5 days away from my little girl hitting 11 months. It has absolutely astonished me at how quickly this time has gone by.  We went from a helpless little baby, who would just lie there, not being able to move in any way, unable to pick things up, completely reliant on her parents for everything, to a toddler that can crawl, stand and walk with a little assistance, pick up her own food and feed herself, and even starting to form words, and it all happened in the blink of an eye.

I’ve been there every step of the way, and I still scratch my head wondering how and when it all happened.  I still find it hard to believe that I’m actually a father, but to realize that I had a healthy hand in getting her to this point in her life… I’m still amazed that I didn’t kill her during the first week I was alone with her.  She seems healthy, happy, energetic, and sweet beyond words. 

I know there’s still a lot more to go, but I really do have to take a minute to step back, take a look, and give myself some kudos for taking care of my little girl.  I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, but it does mean something to me that I went from being completely inexperienced at handling children, to regularly feeding, cleaning, clothing, and entertaining my daughter, and have her come out through all of it quite healthy. 

There are still many challenges ahead, and there are still times (plenty of times at that) where I question whether or not I’ll be able to meet those challenges, but up until now, I’ve done alright.  I may not be the best dad in the world, since I know I get wrapped up in my own stuff sometimes, to the point of annoyance for my wife and probably even my daughter now and then, but I’m fortunate that my little girl still seems to like me, where she’ll cling to me if she doesn’t see me for a little bit. 

That being said, I’m looking forward to her first birthday.  I want to do something special for her, even if she doesn’t really remember it when she’s older.  Unfortunately, I kind of suck at that kind of thing, so I really don’t know what to do. I hope it comes to me though, because I really would like to make her as happy as she’s made me.  It may not seem like it most of the time, but I am actually very happy since she’s been in my life, my depression notwithstanding.  It’s a constant battle between those two feelings, and she’s the main reason the depression doesn’t have a permanent hold on me. 

Well, I’ll try to update more often, as I haven’t gone into any real detail for some time.  Her development will be picking up again soon, and I look forward to being there with her, every step of the way.

Course Adjusted

Being a stay at home dad was never in the cards for me growing up.  I always had that old fashioned model in my head where the man went to work, and the wife would stay home and take care of the house and the kids.  The dynamic has changed where a two person income is almost necessary, but I was pretty determined to make it to a point in my life where I could provide all that we needed so that my children would always have a parent at home to watch over them.  Daycare and nannies were never on my mind, it was always too impersonal.  I always felt that though it was becoming the norm where the children spent more time with strangers than with their own family, I didn’t want that to ever happen.  Little did I ever realize that while I would indeed have a parent to stay home to watch my kid… it would turn out to be me.

That being said, there are so many little things that have happened while taking care of my daughter that I would never have experienced (or at best would only have seen a repeat performance of) if I was the one who was the working parent.  Those little accomplishments that we as people take for granted that are so amazing when we see our own children do them for the first time.  Things as simple as grasping onto your finger, pulling something off from their face when it’s being covered, picking up their head, or (in my opinion, the greatest moment) when they laugh for the first time.  When I get to witness these moments for myself when they’re a first for Rinny, it makes my heart just overflow.  It’s funny how something so little can make you feel so happy.

I spend most of my free time now trying to make her laugh.  Most of the time it backfires, because she makes me laugh a lot more than I make her.  She has these ways of looking at me, or making just the right face at the right moment that just makes me crack up.  Of course, I keep on trying, and the reward of her laughter makes me all giddy. 

Over the course of the last five plus months (wow… has it been that long already?) I have really re-prioritized how I spend my time.  When she was first born, I was still struggling with trying to juggle the time I spent on myself opposed to the time I spent on her.  I hate to say it, but I would get annoyed when she would be demanding of my time, even though it’s not like it was on purpose.  Admittedly, I can be selfish with my time, because I like to do what I want to do for myself, and I hate to be interrupted, but with a baby, there’s no chance of that.  She requires quite a bit of attention, much more than I felt I was willing or able to give, and that was just pulling me apart.  On the one hand, I know that her needs have to be met, especially if I want to raise a well adjusted child, but on the other hand… I really want to have a few moments to do what I want so that I can have a clear head.  Whether it was talking to friends, playing a game, reading something, or really anything, it all had to be stopped at a moments notice if she needed something, and that was just really hard for me to adjust to.

Now though, I think I’m much more willing to step away from what I am doing to attend to her needs.  The good thing about this is that I think we’re forming a stronger bond.  She responds to me pretty well, as she reaches for me quite a bit, and I can regularly calm her down if she’s fussy with other people.  I think I’m slowly becoming a true safe spot for her, regardless of the circumstances, and that makes me happy and proud.  If I can always be her port in the storm, then I know I’ve done my job as a daddy. 

I love that I can hold her, hug her, play with her, and just sit with her, and it’s comfortable.  She grabs onto my hand, my shirt, my face, my mouth (sometimes my eye… ouch) and is smiling and giggling.  I know when she’s happy or frustrated or cranky just by listening to her subtle noises.  Every little thing that I realized I have picked up along the way makes me happier, because it means I’m actively learning about my little girl.  Some people might say “Well duh… you’re supposed to” but you’d be surprised how many dads don’t know squat about their kid.  Hell, how many parents in general.  I just want to make sure I know as much about her as possible so that when the time comes, I can be there for her no matter the situation.

Being a stay at home dad has been frustrating at times, but it has also been very fulfilling too.  To be honest, I still can’t say it’s the thing for me, because I still feel frazzled with her in a way I’ve never felt while working at a job, but just knowing that I have been somewhat capable so far has shown me that I’m better at adapting than I thought I was.  Hopefully, this also means that I’m raising her to be a good person.  It’s still early, but I think I’m doing ok… time will tell I suppose.

 

Growing Pains and Personal Growth

I really have to write more often…

My daughter is now only 4 days away from being 4 months old.  It may be cliché to say that it feels like it was just yesterday when we brought her home from the hospital, but the time really has just flown by.  Every day, it seems like my little girl has hit a new milestone, and it’s exciting and scary all at the same time.  The latest forward step for her is she can now pick her head up pretty much fully when placed on her stomach.  It’s a big step, because that means soon, she’ll probably be able to sit up unassisted, and that means we can start bringing her places on the bike instead of being confined to only walking.

As anyone with children knows, whenever the child hits their growth spurts, they experience some aches and pains as their bones and muscles begin to stretch.  She has gone through her fair share, as there are several growth stages this early on.  What was unexpected for me has been the personal growth I’ve been experiencing.  Priorities have shifted quite a bit from before she was born.  I should have expected this, but I’ve always known myself to be painfully stubborn.

I look forward to my daily interactions with my daughter.  Sure, there are times she frustrates me, mainly due to a lack of communication, but as soon as I get her to giggle or even just smile for me (or at me if we’re really being honest) it kind of washes away all of the other annoyances that can crop up when dealing with a baby.  It feels easier lately to just spend time with her, and play with her, and all of the other things that come along with watching after her day to day. 

This isn’t the most in depth update, as I honestly haven’t had much in terms of brain power to process everything that has been going on.  We are preparing for a big trip soon to see my wife’s side of the family in Hungary.  That will be a test of my little girl’s patience, as that will be a LOT of hours spent on trains and planes.  The longest we have spent on any sort of transportation so far has been on a shinkansen to Osaka, which was only about 2 hours or so.  The flight to Hungary will take approximately 17 hours one way.  I’m not really looking forward to it, but only due to the flight part.  I hate long flights, and this is already the 6th such length trip in the last year and a half.  Prior to that, I had never been on a plane longer than 10 hours, and that was to Hawaii. Hopefully, my daughter has her mother’s tolerance of planes.  I hate them, but they’re a necessary evil until they somehow develop teleportation or portals.

Shift of focus

The one thing I was told repeatedly, and that I always wanted to avoid, was that your conversations as an adult change dramatically after you have a child.  I’ve run into a lot of new parents in which the only things they can talk about after the birth of their child… is their child.  Whether it’s something cute that they did, some new illness to watch out for, or any number of things, I was always wary of speaking to people with children.  I found myself wondering why that was all they seemed to be able to talk about.  Now I am a parent myself.  Guess what?  Yep… I find that all of my conversations revolve around my daughter.

The reasons for it are pretty obvious though, once you’re in it.  As the stay at home dad, there is literally nothing else for me to talk about.  Many of my previous interests and hobbies have to be put to the wayside in order to focus on my daughter.  In order to make sure she is healthy and happy, anything else that I was interested in, at least for the first few months, are inconsequential.  I find that any time I would try to pick up these hobbies again, something would come up with the baby that would break my concentration.  She’s hungry, she needs her diaper changed, she needs attention, she just wants to cry… I don’t know about you, but I hate doing something in starts and fits.  I like a focused and continuous time period to do anything, and anyone with a child will know that it’s near impossible with a newborn.  Hell, from what I’ve seen from my friends with kids, it’s near impossible until they move out of the house.

That being said, the content of my new conversation, at least lately, centers on the least appetizing part of being a parent.  Poop.  Seriously… poop.  That or pee.  That’s about it.  I’d say roughly 80% of my conversations with other adults recently is how much or how often my daughter poops or pees.  And it’s very frank and blunt conversation. I won’t go into details, as really, you don’t need or want to know them, but these conversations just get strange.  The funniest thing is that when you talk to other parents about it, they will happily engage in that conversation.  You will get commiseration, funny anecdotes, factual data, or just knowing nods, but other parents of children (primarily babies) will gladly involve themselves in conversations about your child’s waste extermination without hesitation.  Sometimes it makes me wonder about the sanity of parents during those first few months.  Since I’m currently engaged in it though, I try not to dwell too much on it.  I already know I’m a bit loopy… might as well not add to it.

Now, after all of that, you must wonder if I’m actually for or against having a child.  “He sounds like he’s kind of miserable, since he’s complaining about talking about poop with other people.”  Admittedly, there are times I sit there after a conversation about said topic and scratch my head.  Then I return to my daughter, and she proceeds to pee or poop herself, and she’ll make a face.  Of all of the faces that I have made or seen in my lifetime, I find hers the funniest.  I probably can’t do it any justice by description, but her eyes tend to cross, her face sort of elongates, and she forms a small “o” with her lips and just generally looks really confused.  Anyway, I see this, and I just burst out laughing pretty much every time.  Then I realize, “Oh… this is why people like kids.  It makes them happy.” 

It’s a stupid realization to make, and I make it basically every time, but it’s a welcome break from my usual downer state of mind.  She consistently makes me smile, even after she’s spent a full day crying, fussing, and generally causing me a headache.  There is something healing about the look a happy baby gives you when she sees you as the source of her happiness.  And I realize that’s why that’s all parents can seem to talk about sometimes is their kid.  They fill up so much of your heart that there really is no room for anything else.  Nothing else is really important comparatively.  I don’t think it’s something that can be understood until you have one of your own. 

(As a caveat, be sure you’re ready to have one, and not having one just because you want something to love you unconditionally.  They’re a LOT of work, and if you’re not ready to give of yourself, you won’t get anything back)

I’m watching her sleep right now, and maybe it’s just cause I’m tired, but in all honesty it’s probably just because I love her so much, but I teared up a little.  It amazes me just how strongly I feel for her, and how much I want to make her happy.  Yeah, there are times I want to put her out on the balcony when she’s crying for no discernible reason, but when I come back to my senses, I realize that she does that because she needs me, and it makes me feel good about myself when I can actually serve that need and make her happy again. 

Anyway, the point of all this was that since having her,  I’ve fought against falling into the conversation trap that is being a new parent.  It has caused some problems for myself and my wife, as being torn between being an individual and being a parent can lead to serious friction.  I’m working at being better, but there are always dips.  Ultimately, her happiness should be my goal, and anything else on top of that is just icing on the cake. 

Unprepared

So I know people always tell you that once you have a baby, that you will no longer have free time.  However, it never really hits you until you go through it yourself.  It just hit me.  It kinda sucks.

I love my daughter, and I will do whatever it takes to keep her happy, but it’s amazing how much of your time is devoted to just keeping the baby from crying.  She really does cry over everything.  Hungry, tired, cold, hot, gassy, need a diaper change, need some attention, and any number of unknown factors that would cause her to cry.  Heck, I’ve heard that they just cry to cry. 

As a first time father, that’s a little disconcerting.  I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time telling any of the cries apart, so the time is always spent doing EVERYTHING to get her to calm down.  From step A to step Q, you have to just keep going until something you do calms her down.  And sometimes, you get to Q, and it STILL hasn’t worked, and you either have to come up with a new one, or just start all over again, because you don’t know if you soothed the first thing, and something from one of the earlier things popped up in the meantime.  All this happens while you’re trying to deal with your day to day things, and trying to find SOME time for yourself so that you don’t feel like your entire self-identity has been subsumed by this little crying bundle.  When you finally get her calmed down, you get set to go do something, and she might start right back up again.  It almost feels like I’m back at my tech support job.  The only difference is that at least my daughter is cute.

But seriously, it is tiring.  It feels like you’re constantly fighting an uphill battle, trying to keep yourself calm and collected while dealing with a little flailing, crying, upset baby.  This can fray your nerves, and make you snap at everyone around you.  I mentioned before how my relationship with my wife has become a bit strained at times.  They say that most marriages feel a loss in satisfaction with the relationship after the birth of a baby.  I can completely understand that.  I’m not saying that I’ve reached that point, but there are points where I feel some pretty negative feelings towards my wife, and she towards me, because we’re just too frazzled to see that we’re both trying our best to remain ourselves while taking care of our little girl. 

After experiencing all these things for myself, I don’t understand how some people can believe that having a baby will somehow save a relationship.  The time and energy needed to take care of a baby, the emotional investment, it’s HUGE.  It is probably the roughest period for a relationship, because you have no time to concentrate on each other whatsoever.  If you want to be a good parent, you have to devote all of your energy into your child until they are at least a little self sufficient, which definitely does not describe an infant.  So you’re looking at, at least, 2 years where you’re just going to be drained emotionally.  That doesn’t speak well for a relationship.

Not to say having a child is a bad idea.  There is a sense of fulfillment when you see your child being happy.  The payoff takes a little longer than most of us might be used to, but as that old cliché goes, anything worth it usually takes longer.  The sacrifices necessary to raise a child are worth it if that child grows up into someone you can be proud of.  At least, that should be the goal all parents aim for.  It really is all about them, not yourself.  I just think you have to be ready for that, as much as possible.  Of course, I don’t think anyone is ever fully ready.  There’s always that learning curve at the beginning.

Diaper Duty

As I mentioned before,  I’ve never changed a diaper prior to having my daughter.  Now that she’s been here for a while, boy has that ever changed.  There are some pretty funny and interesting things that you learn when you get into the habit of changing diapers.

I doubt it’s specific to me, but I swear my daughter waits until I change her diaper to poop.  She’ll have on a diaper for a few hours, and happily pee into it until it’s completely soaked, but that’s all.  As soon as we switch her to a new diaper, you’d hear her fart and wham, poopy diaper.  The funniest thing is while I’m changing her, I’d swear she’d smirk at me…

It’s also strange to me what you can get used to after changing diapers for a little while.  While I’m still not all that pleased about the smell (despite my wife insisting there’s no offensive odor about it) I’m nowhere near as grossed out as I used to be.  I won’t describe color, texture, or consistency, but let’s just say that newborn poop is not what you’re used to.  However, I have grown used to it, and now I can clean up my little girl without gagging at the first moment I open the diaper.

In fact, since we’ve recently changed to cloth diapers (more like reusable, since cloth is far to simple a term to use for these things) I’ve had to hand wash her diapers after she’s used them, and let me tell ya… that’s an experience.  Having to scrap that stuff off into the toilet is… not fun.  I use a tissue, so I’m not poop diving, but for anyone who has ever picked up after their dog on the street (and that should be everyone who owns a dog) it’s an unpleasant feeling when you feel the heat coming off of that stuff.  However, you do eventually get used to getting the stuff on your hands and not freaking out and having to scrub your hands until you’re bleeding.  I can’t imagine how anyone with OCD can be around a baby.

That’s probably the most amazing thing about all of this to me.  I went from never having changed a diaper to hand-washing reusable diapers, and I’m not freaking out.  It was a pretty seamless transition.  I still make weird faces whenever my daughter poops, but that’s just the kind of guy I am.  I still love her though, I still give her plenty of kisses.  I just have to remember to wash my hands thoroughly after changing her.  Otherwise… pink eye.  Blech.

Sunshine, rainbows, lollipops and unicorn farts…

I’ve  been meaning to write a light-hearted and possibly funny entry for a few weeks now, but I’ve stalled out quite a few times.  I think because honestly, I don’t feel all that humorous or light-hearted at the moment.  While being a new father has had its definite highs, there have been some pretty serious lows that have come with it.

It’s one thing to know that having a newborn will be tough.  To have the information that you’ll have sleepless nights, difficult days, and just be outright tired most of the time is helpful, but I don’t think you can ever be fully prepared for the toll it takes on you, both psychologically, and emotionally.  Not to mention the problems that arise in your relationship with your spouse.

No one really wants to talk about it, because the focus should be on the baby, and rightfully so.  There is a ton of responsibility and work that needs to be done when caring for a newborn.  However, all of that work takes away from your ability to actually have a relationship with anyone except the baby.  It’s not hard to keep up a façade of happiness and joy when dealing with people outside of the immediate family, but within the nucleus, things can get pretty strained.  I know I’ve found myself snapping at my wife due to being tired from lack of sleep, or stress from doing duty after duty, and I’ve been equally snapped at.  Sadly, it doesn’t feel as if any of this matters, because there is a baby to look after.  When the happiness and well-being of the child comes first, everything else seems to come second.

I love my daughter.  I want her to be happy.  I love to see her face looking at me, with not a care in the world.  However, it comes at a price.  It has been the roughest month of my life when it comes to my relationship with my wife.  I have never felt as angry or as helpless as I have this last month, because I honestly feel that I can’t do anything right. 

Case in point.  Due to the task of trying to either put her to sleep, or keep her asleep, both my wife and I have found ourselves up for long stretches of the night, trying to comfort our baby.  Sometimes it’s one of us, sometimes it’s both of us, but someone is always tired come the morning.  I’ve been trying to take some of the stress off of my wife by getting up early, and taking care of my daughter for a few hours so that she can get a few extra hours of sleep.  However, because I am so tired from the night before, I need to do something to let my mind rest.  For me, this normally consists of doing something relatively engaging, but pretty mindless.  What does that mean?  Right… video games.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t translate well with a squirming, fussy child in your lap who doesn’t want to sleep.  She starts crying, which either causes my wife to wake up, or me to stop what I’m doing.  So I try everything in my power to get my daughter to stop crying, but this stops my resting time, therefore causing me to be more irritable the rest of the day. 

I'm not one to take a nap during the day, because I tend to wake up more cranky than if I had just stayed up, so I’m constantly looking for time to just veg out to give my brain time to process the tiredness. This ends up being a pretty vicious cycle, as it has now been a few weeks since the last time I have had a good night’s sleep, and every day is a struggle to find time to let my brain be off for a little while.  This is interpreted as my not caring, or not wanting to be involved, and we argue. 

That might have made no sense, seeing as how I’m writing this during one of those stretches where we’re trying to get the baby to go back to sleep.  However, I was in bed thinking about how utterly miserable I’ve been the last week, and felt the need to at least try to articulate how I’ve felt, if for no other reason then to get it out of my head. 

While writing this entry, my wife told me about a conversation she had with our neighbor, who already has two children.  She told me that she can’t imagine how couples who are having problems in their relationship can think that having a child will save it somehow.  We’ve had a pretty strong relationship, and we’re already snapping at each other frequently.  I would imagine if you didn’t have that type of relationship before having a baby, that you might as well sign the divorce papers after having one, because all of your flaws, errors, and selfish desires are magnified a hundred fold when you’re trying to take care of a newborn.  Everything is seen through the lens of “How will this behavior benefit the child?” and most everything you’ve ever done for yourself will fail that examination. 

The only silver lining in all of this is that it’s supposed to get better after the initial exhaustion.  Seeing most couples with children, I believe this is true.  However, who knows?  Maybe it’s just another façade.  No one wants to be “that” family.  I get overly pessimistic when I’m sleep-deprived, so please forgive me if I come off a tad gloom and doom.  I just know that statistically, most married couples find less satisfaction with the relationship after having a child.  I’d rather not end up in that statistic.  Only time will tell. 

Despite all of the effort, all of the tiredness, all of the arguing, I do love my wife more everyday, and I’m happy that our baby is here.  I’m still amazed that we actually have a little girl to call our own, and that she’s actually ours.  Part of me is still expecting someone to show up at the door and say “Ha! Jokes on you, we’re taking her back now.”  When I look at my wife holding my daughter, I feel nothing by love for them both, and I will do whatever I can to make our lives a better one… even though I’m going to be cranky for most of the first part of it. 

A Daddy By Any Other Name

I mentioned in the previous post how my using the term “daddy” instead of “father” was significant.  I’d like to take a moment to explain that.

In my mind, I was all prepared to be a “father” to my child.  When I think of a “father,” I think of someone who kind of stands above their child, someone who has an air of authority about them.  You wouldn’t want to mess with someone who is a father, because they are likely to kick your butt.  However, there’s also an air of detachment from their children; at least there is when it comes to my point of view. 

Admittedly, it may come from my experience with my own father.  I always felt a little separated from him as I was growing up.  He was just always this presence in the house, someone who provided for his children, and that was about it.  I don’t think I ever really bonded with him, and to this day, our relationship is kind of awkward.  To be honest, some of that is due to some of the rather horrendous things he has said to me, but despite those things, he still feels obligated to support me in a way, even if it is only financially.   I don’t really understand it, but that’s just how things are with him. 

So here I was, all ready to be a “father” to my child.  I say that because I have never felt any real love for children.  I was never the type to coo over or coddle a baby or a little kid.  I have always spoken to them as I would any other adult.  I don’t treat them any differently because I never saw the point.  I have always been very straight forward, and with very little emotion on my part.  Even with my own nephew and niece, despite me honestly caring a lot about them, I feel as though I am a bit aloof at times, frequently putting my own interests ahead of any desire to see them.  There are times I feel that I am just playing the role of an uncle, instead of feeling any special connection to them.  I have always been confused by how excited they are to see me, despite me feeling as though I am sort of a mediocre uncle to them at best.  People have always told me it will be different when it’s my own child.  I always just blew them off and went, “Pffft… sure.”

Not to say I was planning on being a “father.”  It’s just that when you take some time for introspection, and if you’re really honest with yourself, you can get used to anything.  Better to know how you could be beforehand then to regret your behavior later in life when you find yourself wondering why you couldn’t have been a better whatever.  If you have an idea of what to expect, at least you can fine-tune your behavior so that you’re the best whatever you’re going to be. 

So over the course of the pregnancy, I was preparing myself to be the best “father” I could be.  I thought about what kind of lessons I’d want to teach my child so that I could pass on my knowledge.  I thought about how I’d correct her behavior if she did something wrong.  I thought about how I would answer the myriad of questions I knew was going to come my way, because children will always incessantly ask “why?”  I thought about how I’d handle all the big moments in her life so that I could at least show her that while I may not be the kind of person that was emotionally attached, I still cared about her, and that I wanted the best for her.

I know, reading that, you wonder what kind of person I must be.  “How would anyone preplan their reactions to spontaneous events?  How could you be so cold?”  Truthfully, I’m the type of person who just thinks about every potential scenario, and tries to plan accordingly.  I have this maddening habit (you can ask my friends, they’ll tell you) where I’ll let completely hypothetical and near impossible scenarios play out in my head, just in case.  Everything from, “What happens if it rains sometime this week?”  to “What would I do if a terrorist tried to commandeer a plane that I’m flying in?”  I will acknowledge that as much time as I spend on these thoughts, 99.9% of them are complete wastes of time.  But whether it’s due to paranoia, or just some odd quirk in my brain, I feel that it’s worth it to spend a little time thinking about these things. 

However, the day of the birth, all of that preparation, all of that readiness for being a “father,” flew right out the window when I held little Rinoa in my arms for the first time.  I took one look at her, and all of that exterior seemed to melt away.  I knew, from the moment I looked at her, that I was hooked.  I was not going to be a “father” to her.  I was going to be a “daddy.”

The thing is… I’ve never thought about what a “daddy” really is.  I try to wrap my brain around it, and there’s nothing concrete for me to grab on to.  I just know that there won’t be any of that disconnect that I had with my own father.  I look forward to her calling me “dada” or “daddy” or whatever she wants to call me the first time she learns how to speak and wants my attention.  I’m anticipating the day that she wants to jump into my lap and curl up with me just because she wants to be near me.  I can’t wait until she buries her head into my chest because we’re watching a movie, and something scares her.  I want to be there when she feels sad and needs something to make her day better.  I want to be the kind of person that she’ll still call “daddy” on her wedding day. 

Turns out all those other people were right after all.  At least when it comes to me, anyway.  Holding her in my arms, looking into her tiny little face, I feel different.  Prior to her birth, I always felt like I didn’t think I could really handle having a child.  I knew I was going to try my best, but ultimately, I was just going to be another one of those “fathers” out there who went about their business while their kid grew up.  Now… I feel as though I could move mountains for her if she asked me to.  All just because she’s here. 

I can’t wait until she asks. 

Tiny’s finally here!

It’s been a couple of weeks since my last post, most of which had to do with a very hectic schedule.  A lot has happened in the past couple of weeks, not the least of which is that I’m now officially a daddy!  The fact that I used the word “daddy” instead of “father” is an important matter in and of itself, but I’ll get into that in another post.  First, let me catch you up to everything that led up to the birth of Tiny Tien.  Warning, this is a very long post… you might need a pot of coffee or something.

My last post detailed all of the issues that we had in dealing with a baby in breech position.  Well, shortly after that post, we were told that there was a doctor in the Fukuyama area that had experience in dealing with natural breech births.  You would not have believed how incredibly relieved we were to hear that.  The doctor that we had at Fukuyama Medical Center had gone out of her way to put us in touch with a doctor at the Koike Family Hospital who apparently had dealt with breech births extensively, so it seemed like an ideal fit for us.  The thing that we knew at the time, that didn’t quite register, is that doctors who still performed natural breech births tend to be on the older side.  That little tidbit proved to be a lot more important to this whole matter than we would ever have expected.

We left from the Fukuyama Medical Center on March 9th, with the expectation that we would meet the doctor from Koike that same afternoon, register with the hospital, and prepare to have a natural birth.  Since the baby shower was that Saturday, we were looking forward to that weekend as sort of a final lead-up to the eventual birth of our child.  We got home, relaxed for a few hours, and made our way to the hospital.  Since the doctor only spoke Japanese, I had to go pick up a friend who would act as translator.  This meant that while my wife took a cab to the hospital, I had to follow on bike in order to A) find where the hospital was, and B) leave soon after to pick up our friend and get her to the hospital.  This led to a comedy of errors. 

First of all, there is no way I can keep up with a taxi with a bicycle, especially when the cab takes a major highway.  I quickly fell behind, and soon lost sight of the cab.  Fortunately, we had looked up the location of the hospital beforehand, so I had a general idea of where it was.  Unfortunately, I didn’t know the exact location, so when I got to the area, I was expecting my wife to be standing in front of the location and wave me in, since the cab was well ahead of me.  Now, anyone who knows me knows that I tend to have my headphones on when I bike.  I  generally like music when I travel, so this is a pretty regular occurrence.  I think you can guess where this is going. 

I get to the general area where I thought the hospital was, and I don’t see my wife, so I keep going.  After about 5 minutes of biking, I realize that I may have gone a bit too far when I get to a store that was nowhere near the marked location on the map that we looked at prior to leaving for the hospital.  I start to ride back, and there’s my wife, standing outside of a non-descript building, waving at me frantically.  Apparently, I had passed the hospital by a good 5 blocks, and my wife had no money for the cab she had taken, so she had to resort to paying for the ride by credit card.  Apparently, I wasn’t that far behind the cab, and they had only pulled into the hospital about 2 minutes before, so she hadn’t had the opportunity to get to the front of the hospital before I had passed.  Also, by passing the hospital, I was now late in picking up our friend.  We should have taken all of this as an omen.

So when we finally get into the hospital with our friend, we go through the customary sign in and registration.  We then excitedly waited until our names were called, and we went in to see the doctor.  It started smoothly enough.  He explained to us the nature of a breech birth, and what breech position was best for such a birth.  We had researched all of this before, so when what he said matched our expectations, we thought it might just be smooth sailing.  Then things began to go downhill.  He informed us that in order for them to proceed, they were going to need to perform an X-Ray on my wife in order to admit her into the hospital.  The reason that we were given was so that they could make sure her hips were wide enough to deliver the baby.  This immediately sent alarm bells ringing in both my wife’s and my own head.  Every bit of literature that we had read up until then had said that X-Rays while the baby was in the womb were generally regarded as a bad idea.  Considering the baby wasn’t quite full term, we were concerned about the safety of such a procedure.  When we brought this up to the doctor, he immediately began to get defensive.

He replied quite aggressively that all hospitals did that, which was the first time that we had ever heard anyone say that.  Up until that point, every examination we had undergone was done by ultrasound only.  When we said that this was not a common practice in the US, he replied with, “If you want to use American procedures, then you should get on a plane and fly back to America.”  This obviously rubbed us the wrong way, but we tried to keep an open mind.  Maybe he was just gruff in his manner.  We asked for some time to do some more research to make sure it was ok, and he responded with, “If you don’t accept this procedure right now, then we will not accept you at all.  You will have to leave, and don’t bother coming back.”  He followed that up with, “If you don’t do this, there’s a possibility the baby could die.”  Finally, he kicked us out of his room while we were trying to discuss what to do because he didn’t want us to waste his time.  Keep in mind that all of this is being filtered through our friend who was acting as translator, and the doctor would give her time to translate his responses, but would cut her off whenever she would try to translate what we were saying. 

By the end of that exchange, I was seething, and my wife was in tears.  We had never been treated quite so rudely during this entire process, and despite all the difficulties, we always felt we were at least treated with respect, until that moment.  We sat outside of his office, trying to decide what to do.  My wife was still very against the idea of a C-section, but after the kind of treatment we had just received, she was ready to just call it quits and do whatever the doctors at the previous hospitals wanted.  I decided to try to do what research I could right then and there, since my wife owns a smartphone, so I hopped on the internet to see what we could learn about X-Rays during late stage pregnancy.  Come to find out that it isn’t all that irregular, as long as the dosage of radiation used during the X-Ray was kept very low.  They still advised against it, but that if it was absolutely necessary, it could be done without any ill effects. 

We gave it one last go, this time asking if at the very least, we could keep the baby with us in the room after the birth at all times so that my wife could breastfeed the child. When they told us this wasn’t allowed either, we decided it was time to go.  Aside from the possibility that we could avoid a C-section (there was never a guarantee that we would avoid a C-section at this hospital, just that if the circumstances were right, we could still undergo a natural birth), there was no reason to come to this hospital.  Their policies didn’t match what we wanted, the doctor was a rude asshole (yeah that’s right, I said it) and we honestly didn’t want to undergo what would already be a stressful process with someone who had the bedside manner of a jackhammer with a busted air compressor (yeah… a weird analogy, but I honestly don’t know what else to compare him to without using some rather uncouth words). 

On a sidenote, the reason I brought up the age of the doctor earlier was that he seemed to be one of those old school doctors who just expected everyone to bow down to his expertise, without question.  The fact that we didn’t immediately acquiesce to his demands seemed to have set him off.  I’m led to believe that he must have taken our questions and hesitation as a personal insult, and he felt that he had to reestablish himself as some sort of alpha male by badgering us into a decision, and when he didn’t get his way, he unceremoniously kicked us out of his office.  I’m not saying all older doctors are this way, but my experience is that younger doctors, at least here in Japan, are more willing to entertain a wider variety of ideas, and try to work with their patients, as opposed to trying to browbeat them into submission.

So we entered the weekend of our baby shower without anywhere to give birth to the baby.  Both of our previous hospitals had said that unless we agreed to a planned C-section on specific dates, we wouldn’t be taken in.  We knew that in the case of an emergency, they’d HAVE to take us in, but we’d rather not had to resort to that.  So in a last ditch effort, we decided to speak to our midwife, who was affiliated with the first hospital we were speaking with, Iguchi hospital.

The following Tuesday, March 13th, she came over, and we had a very long conversation.  We also had our friend/next door neighbor over as well, since she had a good deal of experience with dealing with babies, so that we had her opinion.  This was, all things considered, probably one of the best ideas we have had since this whole process began.  The most important thing to come out of this conversation was an explanation as to why we needed a C-section.  Up until this point, every time we asked why, the response from all of our doctors was that it was “hospital procedure.”  This led us to believe that it was always just a matter of convenience for the doctors, not a matter of respecting my wife’s desires or decisions.  We were told that the C-section needed to be planned to avoid damaging the uterus, since performing surgery while going through labor contractions could lead to tearing in the uterine walls, which could lead to excess blood loss, as well as putting the baby in a state of distress.

It was a very calming conversation, and we decided to schedule appointments with both Iguchi hospital and Fukuyama Medical Center in order to see what policies they had that would accommodate our wishes.  If she had to settle for a C-section, there were only two things she wanted.  One, that we have the baby with us at all times after the surgery, and two, that I be with her during the surgery.  While the second wish is common in the US, when we had brought it up before while in the Medical Center, we were given a non-committal answer.  This time, we were going to make sure we had solid answers, and we were going to make a final push for what we wanted before we assented to anything. 

On March 14th, we went to our appointment at Iguchi hospital.  We spoke with the doctor with whom we had worked before, and he checked the baby.  Then he sat us down and told us that he would take us in, but only if we agreed to a C-section for the very next day.  We were informed that the umbilical cord was wrapped around our baby’s neck, and we didn’t really have anymore time to wait.  We made it very clear what we wanted, and he agreed to both things.  Fortunately, unlike the doctor at Koike, this doctor is very affable, and tried his best to make us comfortable.  The reason that we weren’t with this doctor the entire time was that when he had discovered my wife’s cervix was thinning, the baby was still premature, and Iguchi was not equipped to handle a premature birth.  He sent us to Fukuyama Medical Center as a precaution.  Once we hit full term, we approached the idea of returning to Iguchi, but he insisted that we have the C-Section immediately, and at the time, we were still holding out hope that we could still have a natural birth.  However, after the experience at Koike, we were left with very little choice but to accept a C-section. We canceled the appointment with Fukuyama Medical Center, since if we had to be in a hospital for the birth, we wanted Iguchi as our first choice anyway.  So that night, we prepared ourselves to meet our baby the next day.

There is a very strange feeling knowing the exact moment you will meet your new child.  With natural birth, there is an indefinite period of time where you’re not sure if the baby is coming or not.  You know it will be soon, but the time in which you’re in labor can vary by great amounts.  It builds a sense of anticipation that has a very climactic finish with the actual birth.  We were scheduled for surgery at 1:00 PM on March 15th.  That’s about as definitive as you’re going to get.  There’s a sense of anticipation, but it’s very different in the fact that you know by a certain time, you’re done.  It’s almost like waiting for a train or a bus.  You know it will be there, with very little degree of variation in the timing (well… unless you’re waiting for a NYC bus… then who knows?) so it’s just a matter of waiting. 

So we arrive at the hospital at 9am on March 15th.  They prep my wife for surgery, and we settle into her recovery/post-partum room and wait until the actual surgery.  We nap a little, because we were both nervous/excited the night before, so we had very little sleep.  Then they call her into the surgical room, and I am told to wait while they set up for the actual surgery.  At 1:30pm, I am told to walk into the surgery room.  I was a little surprised by this, as I thought I would be given scrubs, but apparently, they’re ok with me coming in with my street clothes.  I proceed to sit next to my wife and hold her hand as they begin the surgery. 

Normally, at least in the US, when the husband is in the room during a C-section, there is a curtain separating the husband from the area of surgery, but there wasn’t one in this case.  I was given a full view of the entire surgery.  This was both scary and cool.  I had never seen a surgery done this close before, but at the same time, this is my wife we’re talking about here.  I have always felt close to my wife, but I never thought I’d see this side of her… you know, the inside.  At approximately 1:48pm, Rinoa Helena Tien was brought into this world.

See? Street Clothes

The funniest thing about this whole thing (if you can call a surgery funny) was that as they were pulling out Rinny, butt first, there was a moment when her entire body was out of the womb, except for her head.  If you don’t know what a newly delivered baby looks like, they are a very strange blue-ish, gray color.  As her head was still inside her mom’s body cavity, I saw bubbles in the amniotic fluid, and I don’t know why, but it was the funniest thing I had seen for some time.  It looked sort of like an alien ostrich.  Anyway, they pulled her out, and here was this toothless, blue-ish, gray thing crying its head off at us.  At this point, we discovered it was a girl, and I could finally stop calling my child an “it” (although, as I had suspected for 4 years prior to her birth, that my first child would be a girl… it’s nice to be right).  At that moment, I was officially a daddy.

After they cleaned her up and clothed her, they handed her to me, and I was able to bring her to my wife while they closed her up.  To say the least, it was an uncomfortable experience for her, one that she never wants to repeat if possible.  I will never understand how people would willingly put themselves through a procedure that amounts to elective major surgery.  However, at the end of the day, we were blessed with a beautiful little baby girl, and really, that’s all you can ask for. 

Rinoa Helena Tien

Now, on to the business of being a daddy! I’ll save all the immediate post-birth stories for the next entry.  Hope to see you here for the next one.

Anticipation…

We are now only a month away from the expected arrival date of Tiny Tien.  It has been a long and arduous journey (man… I always wanted to use that phrase, even if it is a bit hackneyed) and we’re almost at the finish line.  However, there continue to be a few stumbling blocks in the way. 

As you all know,  my wife has been in the hospital for quite some time now.  In fact, she just hit the month mark.  The good news is that she will be allowed to come home this coming Friday, which is good news for both of us, as we’ve been missing each other terribly (I’ve been there to see her nearly every day, but it’s just not the same as being home together.)  If things continue as they have been over the last month, she will be allowed to stay home until she has to give birth.  This is where the sticky part comes in.

Originally, my wife wanted as natural a birth as possible.  We hired a midwife to help us with that.  One of the requirements of signing up with the midwife was that we had to register at an affiliated hospital.  Actually, it was more of a birthing center, as they only dealt with pregnant women at this location.  However, they had all the requisite pregnancy monitoring equipment that the midwife didn’t have, so it was a good place to be.  It also helped that they had similar practices when it came to post-delivery baby-time that the midwife had.  Here in Japan, the common practice is to separate mother and infant for hours at a time so that the mother can ostensibly “rest”.  However, at Iguchi (the name of the birthing center), they allowed the baby to stay with the mother at all times.  This was one of the top things that my wife wanted, so we were quite happy with the arrangement.

As the pregnancy progressed, we kept running into minor complications.  The baby always seemed to be in breech position whenever we had an ultrasound.  We thought “Okay, well, some babies turn later in the pregnancy, and there’s still time, so ya know, whatever.”  However, as time wore on, the baby remained in breech, and this was followed by the news that my wife’s cervix had thinned considerably.  At this point, they were worried about a premature delivery, with the risk of a prolapsed umbilical cord.  If you don’t know why that would be an issue, imagine if you were scuba diving, and your air-hose got pinched.  Same general idea, but a heck of a lot worse.  So she ended up in the larger Fukuyama hospital for the aforementioned month.  Main problem with that, aside from it being an extended hospital stay, is that they prescribe to the “take the baby away” methodology that we were trying to avoid.

Now that the month is winding down, we’re preparing for the actual arrival of the baby, and even then, there are issues.  The baby has remained in breech position, and seeing as how we’re in the 36th week, this is getting to be very worrisome.  Unfortunately, the only method that the doctors here know how to employ when dealing with this circumstance is the dreaded C-section.  In fact, when we were told that she could leave, we were hopeful to return to Iguchi so that we could have the baby with us after birth, but we were told that they would only take her if we agreed to a planned C-section, some 2 weeks before the expected due date of Tiny Tien.  Both my wife and I sat there, our mouths agape when we were given this news.  We didn’t want a C-section period, nevermind a planned one.  We were given some reason about them wanting to avoid a ruptured membrane, but we’re only 10-15 minutes away from the hospital by taxi.  Needless to say, we were caught a little off guard by this news, as we thought that Iguchi was the type of place that generally leaned toward more natural births.  Just seems that more and more, the supposedly low numbers of C-sections in Japan are beginning to be a thing of the past. 

We had high hopes for being pregnant in Japan, as we had read report after report that the infant mortality rate is the 3rd lowest in the world, and that C-sections are an uncommon experience.  However, during the time we spent in the hospital, we learned that it is standard for anybody with a breech position baby to have a c-section (which is roughly one in four) and that if you’re having twins, it is also general a C-section.  One of the more ridiculous reasons to have a C-section is if the baby is deemed too large.  Do you know what they consider too large?  3400 grams.  That translates to roughly 7 pounds.  That’s underweight in the US, not to mention my wife is not a small Japanese woman.  It boggles the mind that they would even consider something like that.

However, despite all of these trials and tribulations, we are just excited to be so near to date when we will see our child with our very own eyes.  We STILL don’t technically know what gender the baby is, as the breech position is preventing the doctors from getting a clear look, but we’re pretty sure it’s a girl at this point.  Whatever the baby is, we just want her/him to be healthy, and we’re anticipating her arrival with glee.  It has been an unreal experience going through this first pregnancy at times (which I will likely write about in the future), but now that we’re near the end, I’m happy we went through it.  It served to bring me and my wife closer together (although how that could happen, it’s hard to imagine, as we’re almost already joined at the hip) and has made me try harder to be a better person for my future child.  We’re waitin’ for you Tiny, with loving arms wide open.

Rude Awakening

So this is how my Thursday started this past week:

*Knocking in the rhythm of “Shave and a haircut, two bits”

Answering groggily at the door: “Hey… what’s up?”

My neighbor: “Oh hey.  Your wife wanted me to wake you up because she says she wants to talk to you.  She has to sign papers at 11 for an emergency c-section and she wants you there.”

Me: “Ok… wait, WHAT?!”

Needless to say, that woke me up in a HURRY.  Just for clarity’s sake, my wife is at the hospital, she has internet on her phone, she was talking to my neighbor via Skype, and I don’t have a phone that works.  This led to this particular wake up call.  Also, my neighbor had thought that I had known about this previously, which I didn’t, so she believed she was just informing me of prior knowledge, not nonchalantly telling me that my wife was about to have her belly sliced open and the baby removed.

After frantically signing onto Skype to talk to my wife, I learned that it was not indeed a request to do surgery that day.  Instead, it was a consent form just in case something happens, and she is otherwise too preoccupied to give her permission to do the procedure.  For anyone who knows my wife, she wants nothing to do with a c-section whatsoever.  She wants this baby to be born naturally, no drugs, no medical intervention, no anything outside of the natural process.  Knowing that, her signing this paper was a direct acknowledgement of the fact that she may not be able to see it through how she wanted it.

The last few weeks have been a big fight with the doctors to make sure they know that the ONLY circumstance where a c-section may be administered is if either the baby’s life or my wife’s life is in danger.  There will be no surgery for convenience, or lame excuses so that life is easier for the doctor.  One of the doctors in particular has been somewhat glib about the whole c-section procedure, and that sort of attitude can set my wife off in a minute, not to mention my reaction.  I don’t want anything stressing my wife now, as she is in a very delicate situation.  Stress will only serve to make the situation more unbearable, so as it is right now, the only thing she needs is rest, relaxation, and some peace and quiet.

However, this whole debate has got me thinking.  While most people believe that c-sections are pretty run of the mill nowadays, it is still a major surgery.  There can be complications that arise mid-surgery that could threaten the mother’s life, or the baby’s.  Knowing that, and knowing how much of a pessimist/worrywart I can be,  it hit me that there’s the possibility that I could lose either my wife or my child.  Neither is acceptable, but if either scenario were to happen, I have no idea what I would do.  I would likely fall to pieces.

My wife and I jokingly tell each other that we have to be married and alive until we both hit the 100 year old mark.  Should we hit that mark, then we’ll negotiate.  Obviously, we have no way of knowing what will happen in the future, but it comforts me a great deal to know that she wants to be with me so deeply.  I honestly can’t think of my life without her, so this latest scare has me worrying about something that is difficult to fathom. 

I’ve told my wife plenty of times “I don’t want my life to be dramatic.  I don’t like the idea of being a widower or a single dad.  Sure, the pity sex might be fun, but that’ll get old really quick.”  Of course it’s said tongue in cheek, but I really do just want a nice, boring life.  Be married to my wife, have kids, raise them to be good people, watch them grow up and move on with their lives, raising their own kids.  This is probably the only real dream I have.  It’s simple, it’s comfortable, and it’s important to me that it happens.  All these things happening with the baby, with my wife, it has caused me no end of stress.  I’m pretty sure it caused me to be ill this past week, and will probably age me more than I’ve aged in the last decade. 

It will all be worth it once the child is born, and we’re all home again as a happy family.  It’s a cliché, but the only thing I hope for now is a healthy child, a healthy wife, and for them both to be able to come home.   I’m grateful for all the reassurances that I’ve been getting from friends and family, as it keeps me from bouncing too much off the walls, but until they’re both home, it’s hard to really let that worry go.  The time is coming soon though.  We’ve only got a little over a month left until the due date, so hopefully soon, I will be writing about my misadventures in taking care of Tiny Tien, instead of worrying whether or not everything will end up alright.

Life is Funny (Not in a ha ha way)

It has been a very exciting week, and not in a good way.  Maybe stressful would be a more appropriate word, but either way, it’s left me feeling very drained, and a bit unable to really get my thoughts clear enough to do anything aside from update everybody on very basic news of what’s going on.  That said, I had a bit of a moment of clarity tonight, so I thought I should write while the writing is good(hopefully).

Prior to the recent series of events that led to my wife being hospitalized for the month of February,  I was going to write something about how strange relationships are.  I had said to my wife, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, that the time period that she would be at home due to her maternity leave would be a true test of our marriage.  This is because when you really think about it, how much time do you actually spend with your significant other?  Between work, sleep, and just generally being busy, you are around each other for maybe 4 or 5 hours a day, maybe less, depending on your life.  People believe themselves to have great relationships, when in reality, they probably spend more time with their coworkers than with their significant other.  How would you handle it when you and your wife are basically forced to be around each other twenty-four hours a day?  Anyway, that whole line of thought got blown away when about a day after conceiving the idea, my wife was forced to stay in the hospital, thus leaving me very much alone in the house.

It’s funny how life tends to smack you in the mouth when you least expect it.  Here I was, preparing myself mentally for being around my wife all the time, and then we’re separated in quite an alarming fashion.  While I try to remain somewhat level-headed, and at least outwardly remain cool, to be honest, I was worried sick.  I have felt completely helpless these last couple of weeks, as I can do nothing but wait until the doctors give the ok for my wife to come home.  At this point, that’s all I want.  I’ve always been a guy who enjoys his alone time, but not when it has been forced upon me, and not when there’s a chance that whatever led to it could lead to very bad things. 

That having been said, it has made me very aware of my interactions with my wife as I’m hauling myself to the hospital every day.  Because we don’t have the luxury of having easy access to each other every day, what time we do have has sort of become a condensed version of what we do on a regular basis.  We sit, we talk, we hold each other, we nap.  Napping in one of those single hospital beds is a lot more comfortable than you would think, but maybe that’s because I just miss alternately holding and being held by my wife, and I’ll suffer any discomfort to enjoy that particular sensation. 

It just strikes me as funny, because if you were to observe it from an outside perspective, we’re not doing anything special, but I think that’s actually what makes our relationship work so well.  We just enjoy being in each others company, and don’t need a lot of hoopla in order to be happy around each other.  This actually makes me more secure in the fact that we’re going to be parents, and I believe we’ll be good ones.  We don’t need a lot of bells and whistles to be happy with each other, and that will somehow translate to how we take care of our kid.  It doesn’t make a lot of sense right now, neither here on the blog, nor in my head, but there is a correlation, even if I can’t express it at the moment. 

I tend to put a lot of pressure on myself to be a good person, and it will only get worse once the baby is actually here.  I have to fight my natural urges to be selfish and get things the way I want them, and instead try my best to do what I can and what I must in order to try to meet my own expectations.  Being with my wife makes it easier, because most of the time, I want to do things for her and for others because she makes me feel like I actually am a good person.  Having been separated from her in this way has made me realize just how much of an affect she has on me in that regard.  I am better when I’m around her, and when I’m not, it’s a struggle.  It might not be an epiphany of epic proportions, but it does make me realize that her being on maternity leave would not actually have been a test at all.  It would have just been time that we could have enjoyed together.

Gotta keep an eye out for that silver lining…

Another week leads to a little more drama.  I was hoping the pregnancy wouldn’t be so exciting, but I guess you can’t always get what you want.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, there was the possibility that our child could potentially be born premature.  Well, at this point, the doctors seem to almost be guaranteeing that it will happen unless they intervene in some way, so we are now in a situation where my wife is now in a hospital for the next month, more or less confined to a bed.

Of course, the preterm birth of the baby isn’t really the big worry.  The baby is past 7 months at this point, so she will have a pretty high chance of survival (at this point, north of 90%, raising even higher once we hit next week).  The real problem, at least from the doctors point of view is that the baby is in complete breech position.  For those not familiar with what that means, it means the baby is currently head up, butt down, with the feet bent at the knees so that she’s in sort of a cannonball position.  Optimal birth position is with the baby head down, butt up in a standard fetal position.  With the feet down, there is the possibility that the baby’s head will not fit through the birth canal properly since the body comes out first.  There’s also the possibility that the umbilical cord could come out first and cause the baby to lose oxygen during the birth, and that leads to a whole other mess of things. 

Even that by itself, wouldn’t be a problem.  There is still time for the baby to flip itself over.  The issue is that the breech position is in tandem with the fact that my wife’s cervix has shortened quite dramatically in the last week.  Standard cervix length during this part of the pregnancy is 30mm or more.  When we first went to the doctor, it was 24mm.  When we went for a follow up this past Tuesday, it was down to 16mm.  My wife then got sick on Thursday and was vomiting so frequently, that the tension and strain on her body had shortened to 10mm.  The rapidity with which her cervix shrunk, and the breech position had the doctors worried that the umbilical cord could potentially slip out, and so they admitted my wife immediately into the hospital, and will now keep her for a month to monitor hers and the baby’s condition. 

It has been a lot to take in, and I’m surprised that I haven’t had a nervous breakdown yet.  It’s a lot to take in, especially when it’s my first child.  I’m anxious for the health of my wife and of my child, and all of this news is just stressful to get, especially in such rapid succession.  Fortunately, I’ve been able to keep myself calm by realizing two things.  One, that the infant mortality rate in this country is the third lowest in the world, and two, that while the illness that afflicted my wife may have caused her cervix to shorten, it is also possible that her cervix had shrunk to that point anyway, and that if she hadn’t gotten sick, we might not have discovered the problem until it was too late.  There’s that silver lining I was talking about. 

With the sudden shortening of her cervix that she was experiencing prior to this recent visit to the hospital, I would not have been at all surprised if it was the case where we were fortunate that the sickness had been bad enough to drive her to the hospital, or it might have progressed to the point where the baby could have just popped right out.  The last thing I want for my wife is for her to have to undergo a Caesarian, because that causes so much stress and damage to a body.  Not to mention how it screws up the bonding ritual between a woman and her child.  So maybe her getting sick when she did was a blessing in disguise, or a stroke of really good luck, depending on how you want to look at it.  Either way, she’s in the care of a really great staff, and even though this wasn’t the ideal situation for us, I’m at least relieved that she is in good hands. 

I do want to thank everybody for their well wishes during this time.  It would be even harder to have to face this completely alone, and this event has really opened my eyes as to all the love and caring that we get from our friends and family.  The concern that has been shown for us has been incalculable, and we are grateful for everything.

Adventures in Babysitting (Yes… me…)

So I mentioned earlier that I have had very little actual experience with kids.  I’ve sort of watched some 6 and 7 year olds (mostly as an observer while my wife was babysitting) but that’s pretty simple.  You just roughhouse with them a little, flip them upside down, make corny jokes, and they’ll love you.  I’ve never spent any time with an infant without some supervisory aid.  Lately, that’s changed a bit.

Our neighbors here are a really nice couple from Canada.  They have two kids, a 4 year old and a (I believe at the time of this writing) 10 month old.  Over the last couple of months, I have spent more time with this child alone (a little over 4 hours) then I have with any other sub-one year old in my entire life combined.  Can I tell you how ridiculously nervous I was?

The first time I had him was maybe about 10 to 15 minutes while my neighbor (names will be omitted to protect the innocent) had to run and get her older child from the school bus, or to drop him off (I can’t recall exactly).  So here I was, holding a baby, and every neuron in my brain was firing off signals of, “PANIC, PANIC, PANIC!” and that was for only 10 minutes!  Later on, I was left with the child again, this time for 30 minutes.  I have no idea how to entertain a child I can’t talk to or make stupid jokes with, so I was left just sort of staring at him for a while.  You ever just look at a baby?  I mean, just sit there and watch an infant?  Admittedly… it’s kind of boring.  I know everybody says how precious and adorable babies are, but I was just sort of staring at him and thought, “Ok… are you gonna do anything?”  Don’t get me wrong, the child was very cute, and for a lot of people, that’s a wonderful thing, but the only thing that was crossing my mind at the time was, “Good grief, if I feel this way about this kid, how is it going to be when it’s my own?” 

Therein lies the reason why I worry about what kind of father I’ll be.  I’ve never felt any specific wonder at a baby.  For the most part, they always just struck me as a mouth to feed, and a mess to clean up after.  Everyone so far has told me that when it’s my own child, it will be different.  I’m pretty introspective though, and I think that for the most part, I’m pretty non-excitable.  Let me clarify for those people who know me well and are laughing at that last statement.  I can get pretty emotional, and when I get angry, at least not actually angry, people have a good laugh because I’m getting excitable.  However, when it comes to “life changing events,” I may as well be in a coma.  Some people call it being level-headed, or cool under pressure, which can be really good for pressure situations, but when it comes to things like moments where most people are all “WHOO HOO!”, I just tend to lean more towards, “meh.”

Anyway, the 30 minutes spent with my neighbor’s child was still pretty short and sweet, and I got through it alright.  The next time though… I had to watch this kid for two hours.  TWO HOURS!  Ten minutes, no sweat.  Thirty minutes, I could stem the tide for that long until his mom came back.  But two hours?  The progression of time has made me believe that my wife and my neighbor are conspiring against me to expose me to more baby time in order to prepare me for when my kid gets here.  Two hours… sheesh.  Most of you with kids out there are going, “HA! Two hours is NOTHING.”  The problem for me is that two hours can lead to problems like what if the kid starts to cry and I don’t know how to quiet him down?  What if I take my eye off him for a minute because I need to use the bathroom and he sticks his fingers into an electrical outlet?  What if I have to change a diaper?  That last one is still a horrifying prospect for me, because I’ve never done it, and I’m not looking forward to it.  I know I’ll have to, but I always preferred to wait until it was my own child, and what do you know?  That day is fast approaching. 

I never knew how much mischief a 10 month old can get into.  Despite only being able to crawl, this kid could motor around the apartment.  Mind you, it’s not a big apartment, so there’s not many places he could have went, but even when I tried to barricade his way with my feet, he just squirmed his way around me.  This particular infant has this weird obsession with going for the garbage cans, so whenever I turned my back, there he was, trying to reach into and take apart my little waste bins.  When I was able to pull him away from that, he ran over to my windowsill and started pulling the plants down.  When I got him away from there, he was pulling the books out of the shelves.  And this was only 15 minutes!  What the heck was I going to do for the remainder of the time?  

I eventually figured out some ways of distracting him (involving cleaning out a waste bin so let him take it apart without ending up in a pile of garbage) and was able to keep him somewhat stationary for some time.  Around an hour and a half into it, he started to get cranky.  This is where all the sirens in my head went off.  I had NO idea how to stop him from crying.  He was scrunching up his face, and making whiny sounds, and I started to lock up.  I picked him up, tried to walk around with him, but that just caused him to squirm, kick, and cry.  I feared that I was going to have to learn REAL fast how to change a diaper, but fortunately that wasn’t the case

It did however, call for me to do something I was trying to avoid.   It was pretty cold outside (as it usually is during winter) and I hate going out in the cold, but I was told that this was normally the best way to quiet him down and get him to fall asleep, and it was right around that time for him to take his nap.  So there I was, trying to get dressed quickly, and trying to put his little coat on him so he wouldn’t freeze, and that’s always fun trying to put clothes on a squirming infant.  Then I had to strap him into this five point harness that strapped the child to my front so I wouldn’t have to walk with him in my arms the entire time and risk dropping him while walking outside, except I couldn’t get the stupid locks in the back to close because I couldn’t find them after I had the kid strapped to my front.  So here I am, walking down the stairs with this child strapped to my front while struggling to hold the harness onto myself because the back straps wouldn’t lock together, and about five minutes after stepping out from the apartment… he falls asleep.  It took me longer to get dressed and get him into the harness.

All I could think was, “WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST DO THIS UPSTAIRS!” At this point though, I was just happy to have quieted him down, and continued to walk around with him until I figured his mom returned home.  After about 20 minutes, I returned to my neighbor’s apartment, and she wasn’t yet back.  As I’m detaching the harness and laying the kid down on his futon to finish off his nap, I run into a little dilemma… he still has his coat on, and it tends to be warmer inside than out.  So there I am, trying to delicately remove his coat without trying to wake him up, and his mother comes home, and I let out the loudest, silent sigh of relief (I’d rather not wake the kid up right when his mother gets home).  I explain to her how my day goes, and she gives me the sympathetic “awwww” look that most mothers give to people who have never dealt with a child, but that also has that hint of, “Yeah… that sounds like my usual day.” 

That was probably my most nerve-wracking time with a child to date, and I’ve got plenty more to look forward to.  So far though, I’ve been able to cope, and these little “trial periods” with the next door neighbor’s child has helped.  I’m hoping this means that I’ll fare better once it’s my own kid, instead of being a complete bumbling idiot the first time I’m alone with her.  I’m sure everyone will get a good laugh out of that story though.