Judah's Story

Alternatively titled: Heeeeey Jude

Let me preface this post with the fact that it is:

1. Long
2. Not completely in correct chronological order
3. All over the place
4. Possibly containing numerous grammatical errors
   
5. Long
   

You've been warned.

As previously mentioned, Judah recently entered our lives. If just knowing you're about to have a child changes you, then the arrival is truly epic. Life will never be the same.

Judah was born at 9:36 pm after 16 1/2 hours at the hospital via C-section. I has forever changed how I view my wife. I knew she had beauty, but I never saw beauty endowed with such passion, determination, perseverance, and will. I was for the first time and forever on will be in awe of the beauty and love of a mother. We really should celebrate the mother on a child's birthday.

Rachel woke me up just after one on Monday morning. She had been having contractions off and on for the past month, but that had grown in intensity to where she didn't sleep much of Saturday night and none of Sunday night. These contractions, however, were close together and hurt. Our doctor told us to wait for until she was having contractions 3-5 minutes apart for 4-5 hours, we still weren't there yet, so we both got out of bed. We put on a movie that wouldn't be too involving. We talked with growing anticipation. We held hands and waited in the calm before the storm. And we went to my work. Yes, after killing time with the movie, I realized that I had left my computer logged on at work over the weekend and that nobody would be able to access an important project that was due that week. Rachel was game to do anything that would keep her occupied, so we made the short trip downtown. A few minutes after that, we were on the way to the hospital calling our parents to make sure they knew the time was here.

The hospital was quiet at 4 am. Another couple scheduled for a C-section walked in behind us and were the only other people in the waiting room. Their experience seeming so different as they both talked about mundane things not having to deal with the contractions that would send Rachel off into her own world. The nurse desk was unmanned, so we used the nearby phone to call for someone to check us in. After the paperwork was through, a nurse took us to our room where we'd spend the next 20+ hours.

Leading up to this day, Rachel went in to every doctor's visit hoping for some sign of progression and up to this point she was never dilated at all, though we'd be told she was slightly effaced. This check was no different. I could see the disappointment in her face. So much had happened so far and the baby felt so close, and yet she was still closed. Due to her consistent contractions and the level of effacement (and being 9 days overdue), the doctor made the call to keep us at the hospital.

Family came and waited. Hours passed by as we passed the time between contractions watching random tv shows and movies. Rachel was still determined to go the natural way if at all possible. Things grew slowly more intense and time began to loose any meaning. The day was forever long and yet a blur. The doctor was unhappy with the progress through the day and proceeded to break the water with a hook. The contractions began to get more intense and each time I saw Rachel slip further away from reality. I tried my best to keep her focused on breathing and away from the pain, but as the hours kept wearing further along, I could see the battle was simply wearing her down. I prayed through each of her contractions as the lack of sleep and the intensity of the pain began to be too much. Despite all this, every check of her cervix was a let down. The doctor broke her water before she was even fully at 1 cm. It was hours later before we were at a 2. The road appeared to be growing ever longer to the seemingly mystical number of 10.

As the day reached into the afternoon, Rachel was writhing in pain with each contraction. I held her as her head would roll around and her eyes became unfocused. Finally, Rachel's came to her breaking point. She called the nurse and asked for an epidural. Those that don't know Rachel may not understand the significance of this, especially since so many women make this choice everyday. Rachel, however, is the most stubborn person I have ever known. Ever. Once she has set her mind to something, nothing will seemingly stop her. Yet, here I was watching her hit that point. My heart broke for her. I could only imagine the pain she was in.

It was 100% the right choice for her. The hours of fighting and the lack of sleep were just too much to overcome by herself. Shortly after epidural was given to her, she drifted off into sleep. She was finally given a small reprieve from the battle. As she slept, I looked down at the catheter bag next to her bed and noticed the red color that filled it.

The contractions remained intense, but now the pain was controlled. At some point before the epidural they had placed an internal monitor to measure the contractions more effectively. I would watch the monitor as it charted the strength of each one. Typically a large contraction would be followed with a smaller one. I pondered the meaning but thought it was normal. A nurse came in a checked her cervix again. No change.

Then, the doctor came in and checked. "Oh, no, she's a 4! Things are going to progress fast now. She's fully effaced." I saw Rachel light up and begin with seemingly renewed strength. The doctor had her move from side to side and push. Apparently, the large contraction, small contraction pattern I had noticed earlier was a signal the body gave that they baby was not in the right spot, so the doctor was hoping the movement, beyond just helping the dilation, would move the baby into the correct position. Shift and push. Shift and push. Rachel strained, but gave it her all with a renewed sense of hope.

That's when his heart rate dropped. They quickly put an oxygen mask on Rachel and the heart rate returned to normal. They continued the pushing with the mask still on. After some time, the mask was used less and less and the heart beat remained good. The doctor gave us the job of "rocking" the baby out. I would pull against Rachel as she sat back and pulled up (think a rowing machine). This was suppose to help progress things even further. Soon, Rachel was at a 10. It had taken most of the day to get from 0 to 4, and yet in what felt like an hour we made the jump to 10. The doctor seemed excited, and Rachel's faced beamed with delight. Her son! He was on the way!

But once again, the heart rate dropped.

As our hearts sank, the doctor posed us with a choice. We could attempt a vacuum assisted labor (where they pull the baby out with a little suction tool) or we could go ahead with a c-section. If we attempted the vacuum assisted delivery, the baby could be put at risk. She felt the head was pressing up again the pubic bones and that potentially, if the baby was as big as he now appeared to be, his shoulders could get stuck. This would mean an emergency c-section with "bells and whistles" to the operating room.

I think it was at that point where all the built up tension, struggle, pain, lack f sleep, and fear broke through. Rachel cried. I cried (though I attempted to only do so away from Rachel, but that didn't work out so well). I do want to say at this moment that I am amazingly thankful for family. Not only were they a comfort with us, but they were a constant source of prayer, support, and food (I can't believe how many meals and treats were brought for me). I cannot imagine going this all alone. They gave us strength in so many ways.

We made the decision to go ahead with a Caesarean. Rachel was quickly prepped and carted off to the operating room. I was given scrubs to change into so I could be there during the surgery. It felt like an eternity as I waited in the empty hospital room. The doctor's warning of possible problems from the c-section played over in my mind. What if she bled out? Everything had gone wrong up to this point, what if the would-be happiest day of my life turn out to be quite the opposite. Some people have that day happen. I found my self sitting reading the psalms as a nurse came in to tell me to follow her. I was led into the OR where Rachel was wide awake, a blue surgical cloth draped over her and pulled up so she could not see what was going on. I, on the other hand, had a clear view. I could see Rachel's intestines and lots of fluid as the doctors worked. I grabbed Rachel's hand, "Are you okay? Can you feel anything?"

"I'm fine. I can feel them moving around. I feel pressure, but not pain."

As the eternal seconds ticked by, I talked to Rachel trying to ease the worried look she wore. Then, he was there. I saw his head first as they pulled him out. He was covered in fluid, but appeared slightly blue to me. A moment of panic rose up in me. "Here's your son." The doctor said as they handed him off to a nurse. He was quickly taken away to another room. We waited until we heard him cry. That beautiful shrillness as air filled our sons lungs. Rachel's face changed instantly. She looked the happiest I'd ever seen her. She'd finished the job, her baby was safe.


We found out that the cord had been around his neck, which is what was causing the drop in heart rate. This was probably because the umbilical cord (usually 20inches) was over a yard long. Added to the fact that he wasn't descending properly during the labor (the bladder was bruised, according to the doctor), there were just a few to obstacles to overcome. Yet, Judah was with us, safe and healthy.

As the doctors began closing Rachel up the nurses brought Judah back into the room and asked me if I wanted to take him to the nursery. Rachel told me to go. I had a moment of doubt, but decided to be with our baby. As I held my son for the first time and left that room, I looked back at my wife still open on the table, amazed at her strength.

I walked down the halls of the hospital trying to follow the nurse, but barely being able to take my eyes off of my beautiful son. His stare was captivating. We made it to the nursery and through the windows my mother-in-law and my sister waiting with expectation. I could see them jump with excitement as we entered their view. Within moments the rest of the family was gathered.


It was all so surreal, watching the nurses examine my newborn son. They weighed him, measured him, and shoved gunk in his eyes, amongst other things. Considering the day Judah just had, I was impressed with how he took it all. He's quite the kid. Yet another thing he obviously gets from his mother. The doctor came in and raved about how beautiful he was. She prodded the nurses to hurry and finally told them that a bath could wait, Rachel had waited long enough to see her baby and didn't really care how clean he was. I'll forever appreciate our doctor. With that, I was finally allowed to wheel the baby down to see his mother. It was a meeting that was 9 months in the making. I have never seen anything more perfect or amazing then this.

Judah was with us. For the first time we were a family. Not just a married couple, but a family. We had made it through and it was beautiful. God had walked us through every step of the way. It didn't go anything like we had planned or expected, but that's okay, because God was there. He protected Rachel and Judah. They are both safe, happy, and healthy. Despite all that I described above, it was all worth it. This life that we are charged with loving and protecting is worth it. We hold him in our arms and know without a doubt we'd go through it and so much more again.

To shameless steal from my pastor. I now know love at first sight. I felt it when I saw Judah. He did nothing to deserve that love nor could he ever do anything to earn it. I love him because he's mine. And now, for the first time, I understand why God loves me. I have nothing to offer him, but I'm His. That's all that is needed.


Hey Jude, you're worth it and I love you with all that I am, because your mine.

My little rebel

Well, my planned little rebirth failed epically. Just a gap of 8 or 9 month gap between posts (and still no redesign). That's just bad.

In other news, Judah Benjamin was born April 21, 2008 at 9:36pm. He was 9lbs 8oz and 21 inches of pure awesomeness. He is now 11.5-12lbs and 25 inches at just over 3 weeks old. What can I say, he takes after his dad.



Isn't he cute? I think in this respect he takes after his mom. Do you notice something about this picture, though? I made this picture into a wallpaper from my desktop. I looked at it for days thinking the picture of my son and his bear was so adorable. Then, I noticed it. Go ahead and look. I'll wait.

See his left hand? Yep, he's flipping Daddy the bird. I have the theory that he actually knows what he is doing (he is very advanced for his age after all) and this is just retaliation for us dressing him up in clothes and posing him next to a strange creature he just met. It's all a bit absurd and Judah knows it.

Don't believe me? I know what he's capable of. On the second night at the hospital after he was born, I was tasked with changing his diaper. Judah was mad. When I say mad, I mean he was screaming at the top of his lungs with his whole body turning a shade of crimson. He was hungry and I was keeping him from Mom, which he hates. I was changing his clothes, which he hates. And I was changing his diaper, which he hates. So, I began my dirty deed with the goal of finishing as quickly as possible for both our sakes. Judah did not seem to understand this, however, and began quickly kicking and moving and spreading, making a complete mess. I quickly ran out of the little cloth paper towel things the hospital gives you to clean the baby and went to the bathroom to get another one ready. In that moment, I discovered what wonderful aim my son had. From the hospital room in his crib that was pushed up against the wall, a golden arc appeared sweeping majestically through the air hitting me through the open bathroom door several steps away. With skill he missed every obstacle in the way and hit the object of his rage. Oh, yes. I know you Judah. I'm on to your game. You're daddy's little rebel.

He probably gets that from Rachel too.