Letter to Lilah

Few times in my life have emotions taken away my ability to fully articulate my feelings in one way or another. Most recently that way would be on paper. I seem to have found my inner ability to channel my thoughts and feelings onto paper which, for better or worse, will be able to remain indefinitely. Frozen in the time I authored them. Few times indeed. One of those times happens to be the birth of our first child, Lilah. As I’m writing this, she is currently four calendar months and three days old. Technically speaking, it’s been seventeen weeks, four days since her birth, but I believe such measurements of age are really only important to mothers. After the first four weeks, she became “months” old to me. I could never understand the weekly counting anyways. But I digress. This particular writing isn’t intended to focus on the ways we tell people how old our child is. The intention is to attempt to write about what I have been unable to so far. I don’t think it’s been hard for me to write about her birth due entirely to emotional reasons. It’s been more about undertaking a task that is larger than I feel I could complete in a way which I would be satisfied. The fear of not being able to fully explain the circumstances, events and feelings that all went on at the time. Many of the intricate details of her birth were lost before they had time to take residence in my memory, so while some of events of her birth may not be 100% accurate, you can have peace in the fact that I’m writing them as I best remember them. I suppose my drive to finally take on this project is the fact that she will undoubtedly read this at some point in her life. When Annie approached me about writing the story for and to Lilah, I was a bit hesitant. Multiple drafts of this finished work have been created, edited and rewritten. Whether or not she’ll be able to make sense of my ramblings is another issue. Hopefully she will reread this multiple times over her life and take something new away from it each time she does. For every story I write, I write with at least one particular reader in mind. The particular reader in mind for this story is Lilah. Please enjoy, daughter.

I can’t recall the exact day we found out, but I do remember feeling particularly comfortable in bed that morning. Perhaps I shouldn’t be caught up in the timing aspect of such things, but as I’ve learned, timing is everything. I’ve always had a bad habit of staying in bed until the last possible minute necessary to still get myself ready and make it to work on time. I remember hearing the bedroom door hastily being opened and Annie yelling “Jeff!” I was able to pry open one sleep sealed eye and make out the vague figure of Annie dressed in her bright pink bathrobe with a towel on her head. “I’m pregnant!” she exclaimed. At this, I sat up in bed, still trying to make my eyes open but not having much success. She came over and we shared a brief embrace, and just sat there on the bed. I remember Annie was shaking as we silently stared at the positive test. Slowly the weight of the new revelation began to sink in. I was going to be a dad. We were going to be parents. We were going to have a child. It’s impossible for me to put into words the vast range of feelings I was experiencing at the time. Excitement, joy, elation, none of them can fully describe what I was feeling. All day, my mind kept returning to thoughts of raising a child. I kept thinking how excited my parents would be to find out that they would finally have a grandchild in town, and how excited Annie’s parents would be to find out they would have their first grandchild. One of the hardest parts was not telling anyone our great news. We decided we wanted to wait until after Annie’s first doctor’s appointment before we told anyone. So the hardest part of those first few weeks was keeping this a secret from everyone (save for our immediate family, of course), and only being able to talk about it with each other.

We decided to tell our parents the day we found out. This was our chance to come up with creative ways of telling them. For Annie’s parents, we wanted to go with a “fishing” theme, so we purchased a kid’s size lifejacket that our child would be able to wear on fishing trips with his/her grandparents. We took the gift out to them, and got to experience their joy as they found out they would be receiving their first grandchild. Of course they were as thrilled to learn the news as we were to be able to tell them.

For my parents, we opted for a simple baby bib. We found one that stated “Grandma never says no”. I remember the timing must have been shortly after Mother’s Day, since I was touting this gift as a late Mother’s Day gift to my mom. When we arrived at their house, my mom was downstairs working out, so we visited with my dad for a short while. Soon she returned to the living room where we gave her the gift. She seemed overwhelmed by the news and began to cry. Again, we got to experience their joy and excitement as they found out we would be having a child.

It wasn’t until two days later that I learned while we were upstairs visiting with my dad on that day, my mom was fielding what was undoubtedly the toughest phone call of her life as my dad’s doctors explained there was nothing more they could do for my dad, and he didn’t have much time left. I know that it had to have been a complete rollercoaster of emotions for her that day, but I can’t help but think our news’ coincided in perfect timing for a reason.

Throughout Annie’s pregnancy, I made a personal vow to attend every doctor’s appointment she had. I wanted to be there to hear the heartbeat for the first time, and see the ultrasound picture of my child for the first time. I wanted to be there when we found out if we would be having a baby girl or a baby boy, and I was. I remember getting to see that first ultrasound picture, and the technician pointed out where the head, legs and arms were. We even got to see the heart beating. She then asked us if we wanted to know the gender, which we did. That’s when we learned we would be having a little girl. From then on, I found myself continually thinking about all the things me and my daughter would be able to do together. From playing soccer out in the yard to working on the Camaro together in the garage (that’s right, just because she’s a girl doesn’t mean she needs to only play with Barbie dolls!).

Shortly after that appointment, we got to work on the nursery. We decided to turn our old “office” into a nursery. We cleaned it out and painted it. I’ll have to say, that was one chore that I dragged out as long as possible. I hate painting, and I’m not very good at it. Couple that with a wife that decided to change colors on me after I already started, the room took the better part of a month to paint. Annie was great about being patient with me throughout that, however. The due date was fast approaching, and I knew she had to be worried the nursery would never be done in time. I just like to cut things close, that’s all. After the room was painted, I put together the furniture, and we decorated the walls with collector Disney plates Annie’s grandmother had given her. The only thing missing from that room was our daughter, but the time was near.
Not long after we found out we would be having a girl, we decided on a name. We wanted to go with something fairly unique and something a bit old fashioned. There were multiple names we liked, but a lot of them were becoming more and more popular. We finally settled on Lilah Grace Honea (what we thought at the time would be a unique spelling of Lila). Her middle name was something that just fit so well, and it also happened to be my grandmother’s middle name. That was really only a bonus, as we didn’t set out to specifically name her after anyone.

In our typical style of keeping suspense alive and well with the pregnancy, we decided we would keep our daughter’s name a secret from everyone. Our friends Rob and Lily had done this with their child, and we loved the idea. There were a few different reasons for keeping the name to ourselves. First; we didn’t want someone to decide to undercut us and use our name before we could. It sounds silly, but it’s happened! Second; we didn’t want anyone inserting their opinions. It’s quite possible someone might not care for the name, and not everyone has the best poker face. That would lead us to second guessing, and one more added stress that we didn’t want, nor need. Third; the surprise element made it fun for everyone around us. Sure, we got badgered non-stop for a good 6 months, but it was generally fun for everyone. We found ourselves referring to her as “the baby”, even when we were at home alone. We wouldn’t even say her name to each other so we wouldn’t be in the habit and accidentally slip up in front of our friends or family. I’ll have to say, it felt a little weird to actually refer to her as Lilah when she was finally born! It just felt funny to say the name out loud.

Annie’s pregnancy seemed to go very well overall. I am a bit reluctant to brag about how easy of a pregnancy it was, due simply to the fact that I wasn’t the one experiencing it. She didn’t seem to have the morning illness effects, nor did she complain about much pain or discomfort, even into the later months. We stayed moderately active and even went on a trip to Hawaii when she was 6 months along. She did well to watch what she ate, and she researched everything an expectant mother should know about caring for her unborn child. As the father of that unborn child, I couldn’t be prouder of her.

Finally, after 9 months of waiting and planning…we found out we would be waiting just a little bit longer. Annie’s due date came and went. We went to the doctor for another checkup, and he decided he would set a date to induce her in 5 days. That would put Annie a week and a half overdue, but at least we would have a definite date; February 3rd. After the check-up, we decided we would continue to try all the wives tales in the book to send Annie into the throes of labor before our scheduled induction date.

On Sunday, January 31st, we continued our normal routine of waiting the pregnancy out. Annie even took a trip to her parent’s house to soak in the hot tub for a little while. All night she continued to have minor pains that she attributed to “Braxton Hicks” contractions. She seemed to power through those without much complaint. She went to bed that night, and I stayed up. I could tell she wasn’t very comfortable, because she kept getting up and alternating between baths and showers. I decided to try to get a little bit of sleep while she tried to keep herself comfortable in the bath. Before long, I woke up to her lying beside me in quite a bit of pain. She said the pains kept getting closer together, and growing in intensity. I asked if she thought she wanted to go to the hospital, and at first she declined. By the next wave of pains, she decided it might be a good idea. We got dressed, and got everything ready. I loaded up the suitcase and baby car seat, started the car and went back inside to collect Annie. When I returned inside, I found her on her knees with her head on the floor and rocking back and forth. I was pretty confident that this was the real deal. I let her ride out the current contraction, then we were out the door.

On the short trip up to the hospital, my mind was racing. I was skeptically hopeful that this would be the time. I was trying to stay as calm as possible, if not for Annie, for myself. I was a wreck inside, but there wasn’t any way I was about to show it. I must say, I’m a bit hazy as to the time we actually arrived at the hospital, but I am thinking it was around 4:00 a.m. As soon as we pulled into the hospital parking lot, Annie promptly exited the vehicle. The pain was so intense, it actually made her physically sick. Again we waited out the current wave of contractions, and continued inside through the Emergency Room entrance. On the way into the hospital, I assured Annie that we would not be leaving without our daughter in our arms. I know she was a bit worried that they would tell us to go back home until she was further along, but I was fairly confident she was ready to have the baby.

Once we got checked in, we were quickly led to a birthing room. The hospital staff was wonderful, and very attentive. Within minutes of our arrival, Annie was dressed in one of those jaunty hospital gowns and hooked up to machines. The nurse on duty at the time made a comment about the possibility of having to send us home due to a lack of space. That was, of course, until she checked how far along Annie was. She told Annie “You’re at a 5 (cm dilated). You’re not going anywhere”. To which Annie replied (and I’m quoting here) “I love you!” She then requested an epidural. Through the whole pregnancy, I never knew what the “glowing” a pregnant woman was supposed to show was all about. I suppose she could have been glowing for the past 8 months, but then again I’m not a very perceptive person. I can honestly say that after the nurse reported how far along she was, there was a noticeable glow about her. Perhaps it was the first time in the last few days I actually saw her look relieved, relaxed and genuinely happy. Whatever the reason, we were both extremely happy to hear our daughter would be here shortly.

After they got Annie hooked up to an IV, things started to slow down a bit. We each made our phone calls to notify our family what was going on. I remember just finally being able to relax a little bit. Everything had happened so fast, and now that we were here, it all came to a screeching halt. I remember sitting there at the time watching the clock. It seemed like an eternity of waiting, but at the same time, it seemed to be happening so fast. I know that’s a contradiction, but it’s the only way I can think to explain it. Our families arrived and visited in the birthing room for a while. We were glad our immediate family members would be there to share our special day with us. I also think it helped Annie to relax and take her mind off things for a little while. I’m not sure when the anesthesiologist arrived to administer the epidural, but I can remember Annie affectionately telling this man she loved him as well. Boy, she was just full of love today. I thought “This bodes well for me when it’s show time”.

Our initial nurse was replaced at shift change with another nurse, Cheryl. She was about as wonderful a person as we could have hoped for. She appeared a seasoned veteran in the field of labor, and her mere presence put us both at ease. Her calm demeanor, her confident manner; it was more than we expected and a true blessing. Teamed up with our doctor, Dr. Bratz, I can truly say we had the best possible care available.

Around 1:15, our nurse decided it was time to start pushing. I was amazed at how the relaxing birthing room soon transformed into center stage on Broadway. The dim ambient lighting gave way to a bright spotlight focused on what would be the center of attention. The once moderately comfortable looking bed was broken down into what looked like a big chair with stirrups. The spacious seating area was now occupied by various carts with neatly positioned medical equipment, drapes, and blankets. I was by standing by Annie’s side at the time, holding her hand and occasionally mopping up her sweaty forehead with a damp washcloth. Our nurse Cheryl took charge of the situation, and gave clear but direct instructions. I was to hold Annie’s left leg, and let her push against my shoulder for leverage. I was then given the task of counting out loud for Annie to push in 10 second intervals.

The entire process was more of a contradiction than that mentioned earlier. I was happy and excited, but in pain and agony. I hated to see my beautiful bride in so much pain, but I knew the end result would be a miracle larger than anything I’ve ever witnessed. I kept telling her how wonderful she was doing, and how strong she is. I kept repeating the same things over and over, knowing it was probably getting on her nerves, but not wanting her to confidence to falter, even for a second. I think I may have even been “shushed” a time or two, but I was unaffected. I wasn’t going to relent, and I knew I couldn’t. After another session of pushing, I heard our nurse say “I see hair. Look dad, there’s hair”. I looked down, and sure enough, for the first time I got to see my daughter. I saw a patch of dark hair showing through, and felt my heart jump into my throat. If it wasn’t real before, things suddenly got a whole lot more real, and quick. After a short while of pushing and with perfect timing, Dr. Bratz entered the room, and took a seat in the middle of the action. I continued to do my job, and let him do his. Dr. Bratz would update us on the progress in his usual calm, cool manner. A couple pushes later, I watched as our daughter’s head emerged into daylight for the first time. I watched as Dr. Bratz suctioned out her nose and mouth, and heard those first beautiful cries. I looked up and told Annie “She’s beautiful! You’re almost done! You’re doing it!” Another round of pushes, and I witnessed the most amazing thing in my life, as Lilah fully emerged. I couldn’t hold back the tears of joy as they cleaned her off. I was given the scissors and got to cut the umbilical cord. She was wrapped in a blanket and promptly placed into Annie’s arms. I was still overcome with joy, and just looked on as the two loves of my life got to know each other. Lilah was born the picture of perfection, and the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen. After a short period of acquaintance, they took Lilah and placed her on the warming bed to clean her up. I remember seeing those large, alert dark eyes taking in the scenery of her new world for the first time.

The first time I held Lilah in my arms, I could do nothing but stare at her beautiful face and marvel at the miracle that just took place. I was finally a proud father, and I knew that looking on from beyond was another proud father; her grandpa Honea. I would be lying if I said the day wasn’t just a little bittersweet. I sure wished my dad could have been there, but I felt good in knowing he was there with me in my heart. That’s what kept my spirits positive and allowed me to fully enjoy the wonder of this perfect day.

The events immediately following Lilah’s birth were pretty ordinary. Our families got to meet her for the first time, and we got to spend our first night with her. I remember not getting much sleep that night, but that fact was due mostly to the night nurses who seemed unable to allow us even a little bit of privacy or peace. After we returned home with our new bundle of joy, things got progressively easier.

At the time of this writing, Lilah is changing every day, and developing a personality of her own. It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that she seems to be emerging as somewhat of a comedian. She seems to enjoy performing for us, and will usually give us one of those sly grins afterward as if to mark a punch line. It’s all in the timing.