Sunday night started out normal enough. El Duderino went down for bedtime without any trouble. Heather was down as well and I was scheduled to have a video happy hour with some other pilot buddies who haven’t been flying.
Having some social interaction for the first time in over two weeks, even over video chat, was much needed and appreciated. The couple of extra beers as the conversation stretched on didn’t hurt the situation either. I was felt like a small piece of me that I hadn’t realized was missing, had been returned to it’s rightful place. As I hung up the phone a sense of fulfilled calm came over me, accompanied by that sneaky little smile you realize is on your face only after it’s been there long enough for others to wonder what it is you’ve figured out.
That feeling was quickly replaced by reality. Getting off the phone at close to midnight, having sated my craft beer craving more than I had in the past six weeks, to my wife telling me that her water broke. Timing has never really been my strong suit.
In general, I’m a person who does better when active. My wife going into labor is no exception. Preparing supplies, meal prepping, getting our guest room ready for grandparents, anything to keep myself busy. This is how my next few hours were spent early Monday morning despite the primary need to sleep and sober up.
After a few hours of sleep, and without my wife’s contractions having started yet, there was a much more organized calm to the morning. El Duderino left with his grandma to have an adventure with her and give my wife and I time and space for our own adventure. We went for a walk, watched some Netflix, and enjoyed a relaxed pace day at home with just the two of us.
The midwives came by around noon and reported that the water had not truly broken, and that without contractions starting there was no hurry to meet baby just yet.
Contractions started in earnest around two in the afternoon. My wife is the type of strong independent person who doesn’t like to ask for help, and prefers to do things herself. Anticipating the needs of a woman has been a task that has baffled men for millennia, pregnancy does not simplify this task in any way. I tried to make myself available at a moment’s notice and otherwise follow signs to be helpful when and where I could. (Along with timing, reading signs is also not a strong suit of mine). This meant being in the next room reading, but within fifteen feet and within earshot, and checking in every five to ten minutes between chapters.
My wife let me know that she thought she had about five hours of labor left based on her leave why El Duderino from to years ago and how she felt. In hindsight this was a silly prediction, but in my head it have me a timeframe to work with. Predicting labor is probably less reliable than picking ponies. At any time they can run like gangbusters or stop in their tracks and then start again.
I overheard my wife’s reaction to a particularly stronger contraction, and heard her call the midwives to have them start making their way to our home as labor was ramping up. This was about an hour and for five minutes into my fictional give hour clock. I made my way into the room expecting the contraction to be mostly finished by the time I actually got to her side. Instead I was greeted with “oh God, baby’s head is in my shorts, help me get them off”
As a pilot we train for lots of different emergencies and I feel very comfortable in most situations. We’ve spent a lot of time in this blog taking about calm in the Chaos. Knowing that my wife hemorrhaged during her first delivery, and that it was just me and her with medical professionals at least twenty minutes out, (albeit thankfully on speaker phone) I can tell you there was a very long two to three minutes of chaos without calm.
My Wonder woman wife pushed our son out, and our midwife team talked me through what I needed to do and what I needed to look for until they got there. It reminded me of an autopilot kicking off in flight unexpectedly. There is an initial shock factor, and something obviously isn’t going to plan, but ultimately the airplane wants to keep flying, and after a thorough systems check the autopilot can be reengaged.
There is so much uncertainty in this world, and the best laid plans often get thrown out the window. It is in times of stress that we find what we are truly made of. I’m so grateful and blessed to be surrounded by people made of the right stuff.
Thanks for joining me and stay sweaty my friends.