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.