Ok so one of the first posts I made had the beginning of the retelling by Trent. He finished it and I am going to post the whole thing but I will bold the new stuff. Trent is such a great daddy! I love how much he loves me and Owen and Trent is also an awesome writer! So please enjoy!
Owen's Turn on Earth
Monday May 25, 2009
Unrelenting Petition
It all started just a few months before you were born, with an unexpected little voice in my head. Your mother and I had talked a few times already about when we wanted to start having children. We had both agreed before we were married, we wanted to wait at least a year to get to know each other and have some time to ourselves as a couple before bringing an avalanche of messy diapers, midnight mayhem, boo-boos to fix, and hungry tummies that would need tending into the picture.
This was not to last. Just a short time later, your mom starting feeling like there was a little spirit who wanted to come to Earth and be with us. She had a number of these impressions if I remember right. But we pushed them out of our minds because we were having a hard time letting go of the hope of enjoying each other a while longer first. Right about that time, several weeks after the wedding, I lost my job. In my search, one of the jobs I looked at was one that would let me work from home. Being of entrepreneurial bent, I was very interested and accepted. But nothing happened. They didn't send me any work, and I waited. Then, on my way home from Knightsbridge (I was still working there part-time despite having lost my job), I felt a voice in my head, a young man talking to me: you! You told me in no uncertain terms that I needed a job with health insurance, because that would be necessary to pave the way for us to have a baby. I felt very strongly your desire to come to earth, as you asserted to me that was what needed to happen.
As soon as I got home, I called your mother. She was excited about it, partly because she also wanted me to have a job with insurance, but mostly because it corroborated her experiences of feeling like it was time for us to have a baby. I think it was that next Sunday in church your mother and I decided that as soon as I had a job with insurance and we were covered, we'd start trying to get pregnant. We cried some tears – partly sadness over not being able to enjoy our new union a little longer first, but mostly over the excitement we felt as we anticipated a new little bundle of joy coming into our lives. It would not be long before I started my new job at Chrysalis – with the insurance we needed.
Shelley's Pregnant!
Because of your mother's health, we expected to have some trouble getting pregnant. This illusion was not to last either. I remember your mom beginning to experience signs of early pregnancy – the exhaustion, the tender breasts, the moodiness and weird eating habits. The more these signs became evident, the more we wondered if she was pregnant. I don't know how it came to be, but one day, during one of her many visits to Aunt Jenna's house, your mom decided to get pregnancy tests from the local grocery store. Could it be? Was the stripe on the test turning pink? Your mom wasn't sure. Aunt Jenna was. Aunt Suzie was.
“Shelly, you're pregnant!”, they assured her. Shelley's gonna be a mommy!
Baby Owen's First Ultrasound
Not long after we moved into our new house, we went to your first ultrasound appointment on November 14, 2008. We were both excited to see hard evidence of a growing little fetus inside mommy. I remember joking with your mother, saying “He's gonna have a masculine heartbeat!”. When the big day came, I left work in the middle of the morning to come to your ultrasound appointment at 10:30 am. I remember how the nice lady put jelly on your mom's tummy and then stuck the ultrasound probe right in the middle of it. It took her a minute to find you, but sure enough, there was a little spot on the screen with another spot next to it. The technician said one spot was little you, and the other was the yolk sack that sustains a fetus before the placenta forms. We were excited as she showed us different things. She said at that point you were about the size of a grain of rice. She also said that, given the pace of the little heartbeat she was hearing, she thought it was likely a boy.
“Masculine heartbeat!” I blurted triumphantly. Your mom just laughed. She couldn't believe how certain I was. Admittedly, it was kind of early to be making those kinds of assumptions, but for me, there was never any doubt. That was a little boy that spoke to me in the car that day so many months before.
Many Long Talks
After I started my new job, there were many moments where I'd have time to myself to just think. I couldn't help but be excited about Baby Owen coming. I knew I'd be giving a baby blessing in sacrament meeting before too long, so I began to think a lot about what kinds of things I should say. I wanted your baby blessing to give you direction in life. I wanted it to say something of who you are and what you would do with your life. It didn't take long for you and the Lord to start telling me things. I learned that we had a powerful little boy coming, one that would carry on the Tyler legacy of leading with love and understanding. I knew you would be a mild mannered little boy, but of a strong personality with a mind of your own. I knew you would be a leader of sorts. I knew you'd be the kind of person that could draw people in and love them in a way no one else can. I think you have a little of your mother's ability to love others unconditionally, and your father's sensitivity and ability to know how to get through to others. I learned of your love for your Savior, and of your strong desire to re-learn that love here on Earth. Your mission would be to spread the Savior's love to others around you, and mine would be to help you come to know of your Savior's love for you.
Mom’s Terrible Nightmare
One Saturday night, just a week and a half before your second ultrasound, your mom had a nightmare. She had dreamed that they found you dead inside mom at the ultrasound. It took some prodding before she finally told me the next day. We tried to find other things to think about, turned on some TV, and talked about other things. Your mom only worried more and more. Nothing seemed to help. Finally, she asked me to give her a blessing. I felt you there that night, worried about your mom. I told her that you were worried about her, and that you wanted her to know you were okay. We both cried some happy tears that night as I told her through the spirit that it would be hard, but in the end you would be born and all would be well. The next day, she was still having a hard time, so we decided to spend Family Home Evening going to the mall for an ultrasound heartbeat check. I sat there and watched. Your mom could tell by the way the doctor talked about the images they were seeing that you were a boy. After the session, we needled the doctor some more, and he 'fessed up. It was kind of a neat evening to confirm what we already knew – a little boy was on his way. It was really neat to be able to see your little heart beating and know for sure that you were doing just fine. We went and got some ice cream down at the Arctic Circle at 9000 South and 1300 East, and took a quick drive to the Jordan Temple. We hoped to just be able to drive around it before heading home, but the gates were locked. So we had a neat visit and just enjoyed each other and our hopes and dreams about having a little boy as we sped along on the freeway toward home.
Baby Owen's Second Ultrasound
After the excitement of having our first Christmas together, the next big milestone was your second ultrasound appointment at the doctor's office. I just remember the excitement. We both wanted to see for sure whether you were a boy or not, despite the fact that I'd been calling you “Owen” since before we got pregnant. It was January 20, 2009. Today's the day when the technician will tell us 'boy or girl'. It was the same routine as before. I came to your appointment in the middle of the morning and met up with your mom. The technician put the jelly on mom's tummy and again, the screen came to life with images of Baby Owen. This time, however, we could see a little skeleton. We could tell that you would have your mother's 'St. Julien lips'. Then we saw it: unmistakable proof that this was a little boy! I remember the spirit I felt as we rejoiced. I remember feeling that you were there – at both ultrasound appointments. We called parents and family as we left the doctor's office. Out in the parking lot, I talked to my mom and told her how excited we were to anticipate the birth of our little boy. I was a proud papa that day for sure! I was so excited to let my mom and dad in on the news: his name would be “Owen Tyler Smith”.
Baby Owen's Gotta Come Soon
As days and weeks passed, your mother's condition made it very clear that you would not go full-term before you were born. You would have to be born early, for both your mother's safety and yours.
I remember one night your mom and I went to bed really early – or maybe we were just watching some TV together. It became pretty evident that your mom was terrified, worried about you. She hadn't felt you move for some time. That night I found out that your mom was worried about you a lot more than I had been aware of until then. We both agreed it was time to get a Doppler. What a life saver! From then on, part of our nightly routine was hearing Baby Owen's little heartbeat and checking mommy's blood pressure before we went to bed.
After your mom's birthday, we both began feeling like the time was near. There had been priesthood blessings that spoke of a powerful little boy who would need to be instructed and prepared to deal with unprecedented opposition from the adversary during his lifetime, that spoke of a little boy with a mission to love others and to spread the knowledge of the love of God and of the Savior. One blessing promised that you would be born very soon “in the way the Lord has intended at this time”. I even gave you a priesthood blessing before you were born. I laid my hands on your mom's tummy. The Lord and I reassured you that you need not worry about coming to Earth, and that you should never let fear supplant faith.
Friday night before you were born, mom's blood pressure got out of control again, and she was hurting from what we thought was a bladder infection. We went to the hospital to have her tested. As we entered the hospital and waited our turn for the elevator to take us to labor & delivery triage on the third floor, I began to feel that you were there. I felt you wanting so very badly to come. You seemed to be saying in my ear,
“I wanna come! I wanna come! I wanna come!” over and over again. Off and on throughout our short visit at the hospital that night, I felt you:
“I wanna come! I wanna come! I wanna come!”.
But it was not to be. Mom's blood pressure went back down, the nurses gave us medication for the wrong thing, and sent us home for the night. We were disappointed.
Monday morning came, and your mother was in agony. Her yeast infection had raged out of control over the weekend, fed in part by the wrongly prescribed medication. She went in for another test, and I met her at the hospital. They gave her the right medication, and advised us that things were not quite ready. Your mom's body, though having contractions, was not prepared to give birth. Her blood pressure was just good enough that they didn't feel right about doing a C-section. They sent us home again without our Baby Owen.
We waited on pins and needles, wondering when you'd come. Tonight? Tomorrow? This week? We had no way of really knowing. We had for so long worried that you would have to be taken early, that we weren't thinking about just letting the circumstances line up for you to come when you were supposed to. Then the day came.
Fast Ride to the Hospital
On Wednesday, May 20, 2009, I got up as usual, and your mom prepared to leave with me. We headed our separate ways. Mom would go to the hospital for yet another in a long string of non-stress tests, while I was at work. I was in the middle of trying to get caught up on a query project at my new job when your mother called me from the hospital. Her blood pressure was really bad, and she was scared. The doctors were starting to use words like “induction” and “C-section”. She needed me by her side. I left work, scared but determined not to worry. We'd seen this kind of thing before. I hurried to the house to pick up the hospital bag we'd packed and get some pajamas, a camera, some extra batteries, and a half dozen other items I knew your mom had packed already anyway. I jumped in the car and left. I got stuck behind a slow-moving garbage truck down by the sugar factory. I detoured to Main Street to keep from being stuck behind it all the way to the freeway, and ended up in construction traffic just south of the on-ramp. After what seemed like forever, I made it to the off-ramp for 500E in American Fork. The traffic was slow again, and I was stuck behind a school bus. I felt the stress and the fear well up inside me and struggled to keep control. As I pulled into the parking lot at the hospital, a little old lady in a big Lincoln Town Car was ahead of me. She stopped there, dazed, her old mind creaking slowly as she weighed the pros and cons, debating whether to turn right or left. The last of my patience snapped like a pathetic twig. I jumped on the gas, swerved around her, and had to brake to keep from running over an unsuspecting woman I had not seen. I flushed with the guilt and shame of knowing I was driving like a jerk, knowing there was no excuse for it. I found a place to park, and ran inside as fast as my legs would carry me.
“Loading Dose”
Up on the third floor in triage, there was a buzz of activity I had not seen in prior visits to the hospital. There were more nurses than usual. Mom's doctor was there, and he talked to both of us. It was time for Baby Owen to come. The question was: how? The doctors told us inducing your Mom would be too dangerous. Her body wasn't ready for it. The magnesium Mom needed for her blood pressure would counteract the Petosin that would bring on labor. Even if labor succeeded, Mom would be in a lot of pain for two or three days trying to deliver you, only to end up having a C-section anyway. At some point during the conversation, Mom and I both recognized and acknowledged to the doctors that a C-section was the safest way to go.
From then on, it was as if the decision was made. The papers were signed, and a C-section was set in motion. The pace of activity in triage increased to feverish pitch. One of the nurses brought in an IV and started poking Mom, trying to find a vein. Another stopped to tell us that they would have to use magnesium sulfate to control mom's blood pressure during and after the surgery. This treatment was to start with a “loading dose” of 200 milligrams per hour for the first thirty minutes, then 50 milligrams after that. Yet another nurse brought in my surgeon's overalls. Sometime during the process, Grandma Lorna came. She bantered with the nurses, and even crossed paths with an old acquaintance she'd met in her many years of working as a secretary in another hospital. When the decision to proceed with the C-section was made, she started taking bets as to how much you were going to weigh.
“Seven pounds, eight ounces!” I declared, and held out a dollar for the jackpot.
“You're doing a dollar!” your mom chuckled and grinned at how cute daddy was being. Grandma Lorna started making phone calls to other family members, taking their “bets” as well. We were getting nervous, but we were also getting excited. Baby Owen is on his way!
Surgery and Birth
The doctors came and took your mother away, out the door and down the hall to face an uncertain and intimidating moment, then childbirth. They left your Grandma Lorna and me in the room to await further instructions and news. I gathered up everything that would have to be moved to a regular hospital room after the surgery, then slipped on my overalls. It took a minute to get the little slippers to go over my big shoes, but finally, all covered from head to toe, cap, mask, and everything, I was ready for surgery. I felt anxious as a blur of emotions flooded through me. I was worried about your Mom. I was excited – a proud papa to be. I was feeling a little bit like a surgeon:
“Scalpel!” I joked to myself silently, trying to cut the tension. I was overwhelmed at how fast this was all taking place.
Grandma Lorna and I waited in triage for what felt like forever. How could it be taking them this long to get her ready for surgery? What's going on? I wondered. Then, finally, the nurse came. She instructed me to follow her. She led me down the hall past the nurses' station - right turn, then a big open door on the left. My insides dropped at the sight of your mother laying flat on her back on a table, under a big vertical blue shroud, obscuring the surgery from her view. It looked like a scene right out of “Amazing Stories of the ER”, like she'd been in a car accident. I had to stop and remind myself that we were here to bring Baby Owen into the world. Though hard and a little scary, this was a happy time! Then I saw something that broke my heart. The expression on your mother's face was one of fear like I never imagined I'd ever see in my wife. This woman is tough as nails.
I heard her say before she saw me,
“I want my husband; where's my husband?”. She seemed on the verge of tears, her voice betraying her immense fear. I wouldn't find out until later that her blood pressure had “tanked”, and that they had given her 80 milligrams of adrenaline to bring her back. No wonder she was so frightened!
When she saw me, her darkened world found a ray of sunshine in my countenance.
I gently touched her cheek, and mustered a smile behind my mask, trying to reassure her.
“I'm right here. Everything's going to be okay.” I said, trying to convince myself as much as anybody. I caressed her cheek and her face, then held her hand.
“How much longer?” one of us asked.
“Just a few more minutes!” a surgeon exclaimed. It helped me to sense they were confident, like this was just another C-section to them. They were very personable with us, even seeming to be in something of a jovial mood. They had been trying to cheer up your mother with some humor before I got there.
“You're going to feel some pressure as I start to pull the baby out.” a surgeon informed us.
“Oh yeah, I can feel that!” Mom responded, showing some discomfort and pain in her face.
I couldn't resist, and looked over the shroud at what was going on. I didn't have the stomach to look deep enough to see the incision, but I did see when Baby Owen came out all covered in vernix. You were so tiny and helpless! You were silent. That worried me. They took you over onto a hospital bassinet and started clearing your airway so you could breath.
“I wanna see my baby! I wanna see my baby! Mom demanded softly, trying not to cry.
“Go! Take pictures! Go be with the baby!” She shoved me away.
I went. I got a picture of the nurses clearing your airway with a baby-blue bulb syringe. Then I took another as one of the nurses put an oxygen tube next to your face so you could get some air. It seemed like time stood still as we waited to hear your anemic little cry. Then the sound came as you finally started to cry, and the tension in the room dissipated somewhat. I ran back and forth between you and Mom, shooting pictures and video, reassuring your mother that you were doing okay. I remember seeing you laying there, before they got the vernix cleaned off. You seemed bewildered, lost, needing someone to turn to. Your little eyes still had stuff in them, and you just looked so overwhelmed by everything.
I was a little surprised to see a familiar face behind one of those blue masks.
“You work here...” he tried.
“No, just here to become a daddy!” I told him.
“Is this your first?”
“Yes” I told him. You were, after all, the first for your mom and me. You'd meet your big sisters soon enough.
“I know I've seen you somewhere before.” he asserted, his Ecuadorian accent puzzling me all the more.
I had to admit I recognized him, but didn't know who he was. I thought maybe he'd been in our ward up in Salt Lake before we moved to Lehi. It didn't take very long to figure out that he was my friend Richie's brother-in-law, Jose – or “Joe” as his name tag read.
I remember asking the doctors,
“I want to make sure she at least gets to touch him for a minute before we take him away.” I was emotional. I felt very strongly that you and your mother needed each other in that moment. Unfortunately, because I was worried about your breathing, I let them just hold your little head up to mommy for a quick kiss, and then we turned to go.
The technicians poked and prodded at you and took notes as we made our way out of the OR. I could tell by the way they released their hold on the bassinet that they were letting Daddy guide Baby Owen into the elevator. I stood there sobbing as the elevator descended to the second floor, and the doctors continued prodding and taking notes. I stroked your little head and your tummy, letting you feel me there, hoping I was helping in some way. You continued crying weakly, moving and stretching like you were fighting for life. I was so proud of you – amazed by little you! You did it! You made it! You're here!
In The Nursery
When we got to the nursery, the poking and prodding slowed to just what one nurse could do. The nurse put you in the bassinet-like warmer with a white blanket in the bottom. She explained what she was doing as she went through various tests: different APGAR responses, breathing, heartbeat, temperature, hips and so on. You were amazingly tolerant. You’d cry a little at some things, more at others, but you’d always settle down as soon as she left you alone between tests.
In it Together
At one point, we got a break between tests to just be together, you and me. You continued whimpering and crying off and on. You seemed still in shock over this new experience, coming into mortality for the first time. I tried to imagine what it must have been like to be pulled out of Mom's warm body and into this cold world – disoriented, defenseless, unable to stop the nurse from sticking that hepatitus vaccine needle in your hip, unable to process the flood of new physical sensations that, no doubt, pounded your little infant brain for the first time. The sense of physical motion caused by something other than mommy's body, the jumps and jolts of riding in a bassinet as daddy pushed you into the elevator – even the feel of the air, in your lungs and all around you – must have been an overwhelming change. You went from womb to world today – what a change of venue! I sensed in that moment that you badly needed someone to just hold you close and comfort you. I felt helpless, because the nurse still had tests to do and a bath to give you. But I stole a moment anyway and just caressed your head and tummy as I had done in the elevator. I wanted so very badly for you to know that Daddy was right there, by your side. I wanted so badly to comfort you and have you feel like everything was going to be okay. It felt awkward to love you so strongly, want to help so badly, and yet know that to you, Daddy was still a stranger. I continued to just touch you, and caress you, sobbing some more at the powerful surge of love I felt for this new little creature that had come into my life, for this new little Baby Owen.
Pictures for Mommy
The nurse told me it would be a little while before you'd get your bath, so I decided to take a few minutes and go down and see how your mother was doing. I rushed out the door, around the nursery to the elevator, then back to the third floor to triage. I found your mother there with Grandma Lorna, in good spirits. Amidst objections to my having left you alone in the nursery, I showed her some of the pictures and video I had taken of your first twenty minutes of life, then rushed back upstairs to be with you for your first bath.
Bath Time
When I got there, the nurse was just beginning to get some water and a small scrubber gathered for your bath. She told me,
“Most babies don't like having a bath. This is going to upset him – a lot! This is not going to be the highlight of his day!”. I partly smiled at her humor, partly grimaced, anticipating what was ahead for you. She dipped a small, yellow washcloth into a pink tub of warm water, then gently started rubbing your chest and neck. Sure enough, you had a fit like only a baby can have! I felt so sad as your little mouth came wide open, as far as it could go. You turned beet red, then held your breath from the shock.
“Well, geez kid, breath! It's okay!” I said, getting worried.
“Oh, he's okay, he'll breath in a second.” the nurse reassured me.
The cry, though weak, came very suddenly. As the last of the air was leaving your lungs, your voice quivered, as though you were in agony, like you were trying to force the air out. Then you squeaked as you inhaled, and cried again. You continued crying to beat the band, quivering as you cried out the air in your little lungs, and squeaking each time you took in another breath. The nurse moved quickly but gently as she washed your arms and legs and feet, then softly scrubbed your head. She had to scrub for a little while though, to get all the vernix off. You objected to every last bit of it. Such torture! I felt bad for you, but at the same time, I had to smile, knowing that the day would come when you'd enjoy your bath.
At last the nurse finished, and dried you off with a towel. She put on a fresh diaper. She grabbed a blue card with all your information on it from somewhere, and put it on your chest, then took a picture. I seized the opportunity and took a couple pictures myself. Then she laid you down on a thin blanket. She folded it under your head, and then began wrapping you up good and tight to keep you warm. Pretty soon, you were all bundled up like you were going someplace.
Is Daddy Gonna Hold Me?
“He's ready; you can sit over there and hold him if you want.” the nurse told me finally.
“Yeah I wanna hold him!”
I pretended not to have been waiting on pins and needles the whole time for this moment to come. She picked you up out of the warmer and handed you to me. I headed over to the chair with the nurse on my heels. I asked her to take a picture of us, and then sat down and started to get to know my infant son. The tears flowed again as I looked into your little face, now all clean, head covered with a little white, pink-and-blue-striped yarn cap. At long last, you seemed quite content to lay in Daddy's arms, free of the nurses' torments and the bright light and alarm sounds from the warmer. We sat there in the chair together, you and me. I thought about where you had come from, and what lay ahead in your life. I thought about you and me having “O”-shaped pancakes for breakfast, going camping, and playing LEGOs for the first time. I wondered things like: where you would serve your mission someday, who you would marry, what career would you choose, what will you have to show me each day when I come home from work, what will it be like to teach you the gospel, what will it be like to watch you grow and learn, and a million other things I've already since forgotten. For a moment, trite though it may seem, a piece of a melody crept into my head, bringing words and tears with it: “Families can be together forever ...and the Lord has shown me how I can.” I thought of you and me and your mother starting out our lives together at home. Just then, I wondered again how she was doing upstairs. When would they bring her down to meet you? Shouldn't they be here by now?
Meeting Mommy
I was still caught up in my thoughts, enjoying holding you when the nurse got my attention. She pointed to someplace behind me as though there were something for me to find there. I looked to my right and behind where she had pointed. Aunt Suzie and great-grandma Julia were standing outside the nursery ooo-ing and aww-ing through the window. I stood up, worked my way past another daddy sitting in another chair with a baby of his own, and went up to the window. I held you up so they could see. They were visibly excited, especially great-grandma Julia. I could tell Grandma Julia was feeling emotional. She just loved you the minute she saw you. Aunt Suzie and I mouthed words at each other through the glass, and though we couldn't hear each other, we were able to communicate. I asked her,
“Where's Shelley?”
“I think they're coming. They're just getting off the elevator.” Suzie looked around the side of the nursery and down the hall.
I stood up, and hurriedly found a nurse. She put you in a bassinet, and I wheeled you away behind her, toward mommy's hospital room. It was time for Baby Owen to meet his Mother.
Right away, the nurse started chattering away at both your mom and me, telling us about APGAR scores, vaccines, keeping your temperature up, making sure you're eating, updates on the magnesium, and a handful of other things. I wanted her and the rest of the hospital staff to just leave us alone and finally let you meet your mother after she'd gone over an hour without seeing you. Finally, I just picked you up out of your bassinet and handed you to Mom. She took you and held you in a sitting position on her tummy. She just looked at you and smiled. She just thought you were the cutest little thing. At some point, Grandma Lorna interrupted the nurse to have great-grandma Julia and Suzie get a chance to see you for a minute. The nurse prattled on some more; I think she gave us some more stuff to sign, and then she finally left.
Right about then, your Mom started objecting to having everyone around. It didn't take very long for me to realize what she was doing; we had talked about this. Before you were born, your Mom and I had decided we wanted to spend a few minutes alone as soon as possible after you were born. Grandma Lorna had to pull Grandma Julia away and lead her out of the room, explaining all the while that this new little family needed time alone right now.
“We're going to leave, and then you'll have all the time.” Grandma Julia complained, not understanding. Someone took a picture of Grandma Julia standing at the door looking back, just aching to hold you before she left. Aunt Suzie was emotional: she was really excited to see her little sister have a baby of her own.
“He really is such a doll!” she said as she hugged your Mom and left.
Then we were alone, just the three of us.
Our First Day at the Hospital
The nurses came in and out, checking vitals, making sure your Mom wasn't in too much pain, and seeing how the feeding was coming along. They offered some pointers, brought water and pain medication and other things. It wasn't too long before your Aunt Tausha came. Yes, she thought you were cute too.
Neener, neener!
That afternoon, I had your Grandma Smith meet me at the house so I could drop off the Lexus and pick up a few things for your mom. I frantically scrambled to remember everything and think of anything we might have forgotten as I got things together to bring with me back to the hospital. On the way there, I called your Aunt Jenna to say “Neener, neener!”. Your Cousin Ashley was taking her time getting here, and I just had to give Aunt Jenna a bad time.
While your Mom and Aunt Tausha visited, I went downstairs looking for dinner. Out the door, the wrong way down the hall, then, “Can somebody buzz me out?” and I got on the elevator. I reached the bottom floor and started wandering around, wondering what was open in the hospital. I found a snack shop, and ordered a hamburger. I sat there, looking at the plastic band on my wrist and thinking about the events of the day. I paid for my dinner, then found the elevator and went back up to the second floor to be with you and your mother. “I'm here with Michelle Smith, code 9235” I said on the security phone. I was glad I'd taken pains to memorize the code before heading downstairs. I didn't have my cell phone with me, so they would have given me a hard time before letting me in!
I was still chowing down on my hamburger when Grammy and Grandpa came. They were excited about you, excited for us. They asked how much you weighed and how long you were, what time you were born and all of that. They told us they had finally named their new puppies: Allie and Alphie. We talked about how cute the puppies were for a minute, then back to how cute you were. We did the math and realized that the two puppies together weighed about as much as you did at the time! That's how tiny you were.
Sometime that evening, Grandma Smith came. She was excited to meet you, and took a minute to talk to you while she held you. I think she was equally excited to watch as I held you and looked at you, unable to get enough. I still was getting emotional when I would hold you.
The uh, Adventurous Night
After the visits from family subsided, your Mom and I started settling in for the night. We were both tired. Mom made one last lengthy attempt at feeding you while I pulled the hide-a-bed couch apart and laid out some sheets, blanket and pillow for myself. I don't remember much else that happened that night except that your mom didn't want you sleeping alone. After I got the hide-a-bed all put together, I climbed into bed while trying to hold you nestled against my chest. I laid down, trying to get comfortable. Every time I'd shift or move, you'd sqeak a little, wanting me to hold still for you. Finally, I got comfortable, and I lay down on my back, with you in my chest. You laid your little head down on me and slept peacefully, as though you'd never been anywhere else in the world. Your head was so big on the rest of your body that you looked like a little alien, but I adored you anyway. You came out of mommy's insides where it was warm and soft, into this world, into a hard first day. Then laid your little head on me and went to sleep. It was amazing how completely you seemed to trust your mom and me. A lot of that trust, I knew, was born of the fact that you needed us and didn't know any different. But I knew too that your coming to us had been, among other things, an act of will on your part. You were here because you wanted to come, and for a moment, you seemed to feel quite safe trusting your self and your well-being to Daddy's care.
The other part I remember about that night was that the nurses were relentless. They kept coming, and coming ….and coming! They'd wake your mother up to ask her if she needed pain medication, or if the IV was hurting her, or how was the baby eating, or a million other things they thought up to wake her for. Unless I'm mistaken, they even had the nerve to wake her up to ask her if she needed medicine to help her sleep. Then again, it could just be I remember great-grandpa Bernie joking about it earlier that evening. The magnesium was still making Mommy groggy, so she needed the sleep badly. But the nurses came in at midnight anyway to clean up her bandages from the surgery and check to make sure everything was okay. They made her get up and walk around. She seemed to be able to walk with the nurses helping. Still, I could sense she was uncomfortable, in pain. It seemed as though the night would never end. I wished they'd leave her – and me – alone!
Happy Birthday Owen!
I woke up later than I meant to the next morning. I was rushing to get ready for work, and your mom was trying to get set up to feed you. I think I was a little bit short with her that morning. I kept trying to read my scriptures, thinking I'd gotten her everything she needed, thinking surely she could get by for a few minutes and let me have my scripture time. She kept having me get this and that – a burp cloth, water, help with her pillow, her cell phone, some things re-arranged on the bedside table. She really did need my help.
I finally got off to work, but I might as well have stayed at the hospital for all the good it did. My brain was mush from lack of sleep, and I was still struggling to learn everything at my new job. I could hardly function that day. I was so anxious. All I wanted was to be there to take care of you and Mom – so badly that I really couldn't think of anything else. Then your Mom called to tell me you needed and echo-cardiogram. That scared me. For the rest of the day, I was not only anxious to be with you and Mom, I was worried too. I wanted so badly to be free to talk to mommy about what was happening to you.
Lunch break came, and I went to the Albertson's in American Fork. I picked up a sandwich and some grapes, and little round, white cake with blue and orange frosting. I looked for a little number-shaped candle – a zero. That would make mommy smile! I rushed to the hospital and hurriedly ate my lunch. I think I got to hold you for a few minutes before I had to leave. Finally, I turned to go again, but not before lighting the candle and having some birthday cake – we just had to celebrate Owen's birthday!
Sapphire Earrings
I don't know who came to visit your mom that night, or whether I left her by herself for a while, but I went to the Wal-mart. I picked up a stool for your mom to be able to climb up into our tall bed at home after the surgery. I picked up a few other little things, then headed over to the mall. I parked the van outside Jared's and went in to where your Mom and I had been just a week or two before. I was looking for just the right sapphire earrings. One of the salespeople there was trying to help, but she was having a difficult time figuring out what I wanted. Then, the lady that had helped us before came out of nowhere on her way to somewhere else. She recognized me and started to ask how the pregnancy was going. Then she noticed it: the little band on my wrist that told the whole world I was a daddy! She was happy for us. She congratulated me as so many others had done, and then reminded me of some of the things your Mom had pointed out when we were in the store before. I picked out a pair of beautiful sapphire earrings. I was a little worried about the expense, but I knew your mother wanted them. She had earned them. I wanted her to have them. When I got back to the hospital – late, but with dinner in tow – your Mom was glad to see me. I wanted nothing more than just to give her a big hug and hold both of you close. I stopped to give her the earrings first though. She acted more surprised than she really was, but I could see she was genuinely grateful. They were a little different from what she expected, but she loved them and quickly put them on. For a moment, I remembered the words of the sealer at the Provo temple on one of our trips to do proxy sealings: “she is the mother of all living”. In that moment, in my little world, in the little kingdom that is our family, your mother was the mother of all living.
Lonely Night
Because I had struggled so badly to function at work, your mom talked me into going home to sleep. At some point, I headed out. I really didn't want to go, but I felt it was the best thing to do under the circumstances. When I got home, the house was dark and lonely, uninviting. I pulled into the garage and parked the van next to a Lexus I hadn't seen in a few days. I went into the house and turned the light on in the kitchen. I hadn't seen it for a few days either. I went down to the office to work on the computer. I edited the photos I had taken of you up to that point, renamed and organized them. Then I went upstairs and started getting ready to go to bed. It felt weird, almost alien, to be in the house alone and going to bed, knowing your Mom would not be next to me, knowing she was at the hospital all alone after having spent too much of the day alone already.
I think I must have been down on the computer for some time. My cellphone was upstairs, connected to its charger across the room from the bed, where I couldn't hear it ringing. By the time I came up to bed I think there were eleven missed calls from your mother. I knew by the sheer number of calls I had missed that by now your poor mother was worried sick. I called her. She promptly chewed me out some about missing so many calls and not answering my phone. Then she started to cry. Your mother - tough as nails - started to cry, and for the life of her, she just couldn't stop. She was all alone in a strange place, needing sleep she couldn't have, hungry for real food that was out of reach, alone without her husband by her side, and worst of all, her newborn infant son was somewhere she couldn't see him, hear him, watch over him, or even just check to be sure he was still there, still alive. I tried to console her, but I felt helpless to do anything for her over the phone. I knew then that it had been a mistake for me to come home. I should have stayed at the hospital. Your mom said as much too. I almost got up and left to get back to the hospital, but your mom talked me out of it. She knew it would be almost midnight by the time I got there, and she knew I needed to sleep if I was going to function at work the next day. The realization that I definitely was not going to be there for her that night hit all the harder, and the tears came back with a vengeance. Then, it dawned on her – or maybe I said something. Somehow, she decided to ask the nurses to bring her baby back. The second she made that decision, she began to regain her composure. I knew then that she had it: the heart of a lovesick mommy!
One More Day
Friday wasn't quite as bad, though I still felt like going to work was a jail sentence when all I really, desperately wanted was just to come be with you and Mom at the hospital. Work happened, and I came to the hospital on my lunch break again. I don't think I got to hold you that day, because the nurses were too busy checking temperature, weight, feeding and all that fun stuff. It really irritated me. Couldn't they see I was on my lunch break? Couldn't they see that I had only a few minutes to be with my newborn son before I had to go back to work? Your mom got more visitors that day, so it was a better day for her too. I think I remember Aunt Jenna and Uncle Matt coming with Rachel and Adam. The kids were fascinated with you, but too shy to get very close. It was hard to get pictures of them with you. After everyone left, we settled down for our last night in the hospital. This special time with you was coming to an end, but another special event was coming in the morning. We were very excited!
Going Home!
The next morning, Saturday, we got up. I think I did better job of taking care of your mother that morning than I had on Thursday. She did a better job of letting me get some scriptures in. I made a couple trips out to the van, loading up diaper bag, clothes, computer, purse, and a half-dozen other things. I'd have felt quite like a regular pack mule if I hadn't been such a proud, excited Papa!
“Code 9235, I'm here with Michelle Smith” I said, up on the second floor. It wasn't until the last syllable slipped out of my mouth that I realized I'd said it for the last time. The van was parked in the half-moon entrance at the front of the hospital, and everything was ready to go. I didn't make it all the way back to room 203 before I saw the nurse helping your mom into a wheelchair. I snapped a picture or two and tried to keep out of the way as the nurse guided your mother down the hallway with you in your car seat, in her lap. She was a proud mommy too! More pictures of mommy holding you in the wheelchair, putting you in the van for your very first car ride. I wondered what you'd make of it, then decided you were just a baby and wouldn't know any different.
We drove home a little more slowly than usual. I was worried about hurting your mom if we went around a corner too quickly. I wondered how you were doing back in your car seat. I wasn't worried about you because your mom was right by your side next to you in the other seat in back. But I wished I could see you, see what you thought as you looked out the window at the world, soaking up new sights for the first time.
We pulled into the garage, and I was a little emotional as we got you out of the van. We took more pictures on our way into the house. I set you down on the counter, car seat and all, to get you out. Just a few short months before, the house looked like your Mom and I lived there. Now, the newly-painted upstairs bedroom looked unmistakably like a nursery where a baby boy was soon to sleep. There was a car seat on the counter, a diaper bag on the table, and a bassinet in the bedroom. Baby clothes and bouncy chairs, an aspirator, an extra box of wipes, a pile of diapers a mile high, a play mat with dangly little multi-colored toys hanging down from its blue arch – a baby boy lives here!
Epilogue – To Our Son
Saturday September 5, 2009
It seems like only yesterday we were still worried about you and mommy, still wondering when you'd come. I remember seeing you when they pulled you out of mommy, not even half a second old. You were so weak you could barely even cry then. Grasping for a toehold on the precipice of life, you seemed so helpless, so very much alone. But you were not alone, for Daddy was there, and Mommy too! She got to see some pictures from her side of the operating room before you were even thirty seconds old. She got to kiss your head and say a quick hello and goodbye before the doctors whisked you away to finish the testing and get you cleaned up. Even then, you were not alone. I pushed your bassinet onto the elevator, and held my hand on your tiny little tummy, hoping you'd feel better knowing Daddy was by your side.
Now, your mom and I fight over whose turn it is to hold you.
“I want a turn!” your mom will say, holding her hands out, a pleading, expectant look and a smile in her eye.
“MINE!!” and I turn away, holding you all the closer, keeping you to myself. You don't seem to mind the attention one bit.
You're a thriving, happy little boy who loves to kick and screech happily as you smile and “talk” to us. You really don't like your car seat, and you seem to really love your baths. You fuss between 7:00 and 8:00 at night, and if we go more than two days without giving you a bottle, you get mad at us for trying to give you one then. You're a tough little guy. We made a run to the E.R. in the middle of the night because you couldn't breath, and you pulled out of that just fine. You calm down really fast when you've been hurt, or once we figure out what the problem is and solve it. You can't sit still for long, and neither can we. If we're going to hold you, we have to be up and moving or you get bored and don't mind telling us. You seem to know what you want, and you have no problem asking for it. You seem so curious, so full of get-up-and-go. Your little mind seems to be going a million miles an hour as your eyes look around, your brain soaking up every first-time experience like the next one just can't come fast enough.
I see so much potential in you. You have a lot of ambition, a lot of passion. I see you as the kind of person who will have big dreams and big goals, the courage and the drive to go after them. You have so much love to give, and you're so positive. Even when you're crying because you're hungry or hurting, you'd rather be happy. Even at those kinds of times, you struggle on occasion to squeeze out a smile or a happy screech. Your needing us has driven us to need the Lord in ways we could not have imagined. You've taught us so much already. What will you teach us next? What will we teach you? We'll soon find out.
In the meantime, Mommy and Daddy can't help but love and adore you just the way you are. We couldn't imagine having a neater, cuter little boy, and we couldn't imagine being happier parents. We're pleased and proud to have you in our home, in our little family. We take seriously the job of training you and helping you find your way in this world. Most of all, we take seriously the job of helping you find your Father in Heaven and your Savior, learning of their infinite, life-changing love for you, and then sharing it with those around you. That is your mission in life, the goal you brought to Earth with you, and while you're here, finally having your long-anticipated turn on Earth, we'll help you fulfill it.
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