"Was it worth it?"

This is the question that sparked it all for us on the 90+ degree afternoon, back at our house, covered in sweat and stank from a long weekend of boat camping on Lake James with friends.  You could see the fatigue on us both. Me trying to put the boat away while the sun reminded me of the poor sunblock decisions made, and Maura inside trying to sort out how much extra food we had....again....and how much was NOT soaked in ice water and could be salvaged.

As I walked in from outside, finally done putting away all the tools of the Memorial Day Weekend trade, I saw Maura on the couch, head in hands, and I asked her "is everything ok?".  To which she replied "I'm just so tired, and trying to figure out if it was worth it or not." (I don't even know if I responded) I was pissed.  Luckily I had a reason to go to the store so I did.....not without making my frustration known as passively as possible (rookie mistake).

Why was I the one who was mad, when Maura was the one clearly upset or just trying to process her emotions upon MY request? I guess I felt like I had done all this work to make the weekend smooth and enjoyable, and it might not have been "worth it" which felt to me like "wasn't enough".  The story I told myself about all of this while looking for an elusive bottle of Faygo Red Pop at Ingles was a dramatic one, but not necessarily a factual one. 

When I got home, we had a nice little argument about the whole thing. The only reason I use the word "argument" is because we were so tired, and neither of us were being very patient about each others perspective and feelings. I felt the same way she did, but I was trying to pump myself up (look for positives despite the work) about things, and her words, at that moment, derailed my thought train of trying to focus on the good of the weekend.

So.....none of this addresses "was it worth it?". This question, to me, goes along with the feelings I've had/we've had about many of our vacations, not just this one, and not just since Sutton.  Our families and friends from home are a long way away, and it takes a lot of effort to make time together, in any capacity, happen. In the end, does that effort result in what you wanted out of it?  That's a hard question to answer, but I've found that sometimes documenting things with a hint of "revisionist history" can be very therapeutic.  I use this format, (journaling) but some people like a FaceBook Album or having a place to hang/changeout photos of trips and activities you do as a family.  Find the best part of a hard trip and celebrate it.  Even just deciding that, after a long trip/activity, share what was the best moments you want to remember with each other. Just doing that can help shift the mindset and help your "worth it" calculation......in my experience.

I wrote Maura an email Tuesday morning:

________________________________________________________________________________

I know it was hard…..BUT……these are the memories I’ll have now forever. 

Sutton’s face when we pulled up to the dock to get you guys. 

Waking up with the sun, and rolling over and seeing him and you sleeping peacefully as our campsite lights up
Watching him watch the bugs with amazement, and wanting to touch all the tree leaves while on my shoulders
“Good morning campsite”
Seeing him and you sitting together by the lake throwing stones and letting him experience the rocks on his bare feet.
His 300 layers of sunscreen and crazy boat hair laying on your lap to cuddle because of the wind when the boat goes fast.
“big boat….vrooom vroooom!!”
Getting to experience his comfort in the water by jumping to me, and floating in your arms away from the boat.
His adorable little butt with the neon green thong up his butt J
Admiring his ease around our friends, like him and Hoffman playing on the boat on Monday.
Playing with him in the hammock…….forever ;)

I know we could write a list of things that made it hard or annoying, or stressful.  But I don’t want that to be how we look at these times, and I know we won’t in the long run.  I agree we should consider how we can perhaps limit the downsides of these trips, and communication will be important.  I don’t think either of us were in a place emotionally, or physically to sort through all that….especially with a toddler having a vacation hangover of his own in that same moment.  I know my stress reaction is to fight everyone off, and go solo and I’m sorry about that.  It’s more productive to be on the same team and help each other through those tough times than for me to protect my feelings by pushing others away.  It’s a work in progress. 

________________________________________________________________________________

She was very thankful to have me remind her of all those things and not of the things that didn't go wonderfully:
- like Sutton not sleeping in his pack 'n play
- Sutton's constant neediness regarding his ever changing demands from throwing stones to going on the boat.....
- Sutton's mid-night thrashings that would wake Maura and I up
- Nap? Is he gonna take one? What does his nap mean for night time???
- My dead battery on the boat as Hoffman and I shoved off, alone, on Monday afternoon...
- GPS F-ing up my drive home
- an overall later than expected "all done" to the weekend so we could RELAX!

Beyond that, I can't think of much, and it's only a couple days later. I am willing to bet that the memories in the email are the ones that stick vs. the ones I had to come up with just now. 

Was it worth it? : YES
Why: I'm choosing to focus on the good stuff and not the bad
Lesson: Keep an open line to the Mrs. on how time off is spent and try to build in a "adjustment" period in if you think you'll be stressed coming off a vacation...….the exact opposite of it's purpose.

THE END

Glass case of emotion!

5/9/2019

If I told you right now that I was overwhelmed to a point of sporadic sobbing sessions and near panic attack style breathing, I would expect you to say to yourself "no way, it can't be that bad".  But that's where things are right now.  Right now.  Not that I'm sobbing in this instant, just reminding myself that this is how things are right now, and that tomorrow they could change. It could change for the better, it could change for the worse.  It might not change at all.  But this is right now, and as bad as it sucks, and it really fucking does, this will pass.

5/15/2019

I kind of hit a mental road block right after that paragraph that I wrote last week.  Maybe it was because I kind of processed what I needed to well enough that I didn't need to go any further.  I acknowledged what was going on, and my emotions, and then let it go.  And you know what? Things have started to change and we're on a small up swing.  Clearly, being able to talk to Andrew was a big help, but also having a "normal weekend" along with being able to get some mileage in last week, and this week has contributed to a better mental state. 

What have I learned? A lot.....I think.

My emotional bandwidth was totally consumed, and the crying episodes were the "overflow".  That's why every little thing set me off.  Heartfelt interaction with a deaf lady at Post Office......crying.  Buying mothers day gift......crying.  Every email I got at work.....pissed....ready to quit. With virtually no time to myself to think, or exercise, I had no way to purge along the way. Gotta keep an eye on these things moving forward. 

My fear of the "well this is it, this will be the point in my life where my life gets so consumed with other shit that my health and happiness go to absolute shit forever".....or as some refer to it as a Midlife Crisis.  Thankfully Andrew, and some guided meditation helped me realize that I'm way too aware of my surroundings, and feelings to let that slip away until "it's too late". Fair point.  And, I was already making some changes to my schedule to take back control of things, like time for running.  Another great example of loss of control, and feeling of helplessness creeping in. 

I often wonder if my visits with Andrew, along with the daily meditation have led such a greater awareness and deeper thinking that I almost feel lost in this newly found, larger space. Perhaps all this introspection and processing of so many emotions has created a little bit of fear.  Like having the walls around me drop and realizing the space around me is so much "more" than I thought it was.  I can see how that might trigger a little uneasiness.

I feel a bit like I've gone from feeling like I'm going through a mid-life crisis, to feeling like I'm evolving or breaking through.  Clearly this is a big accomplishment because a week ago I was worried about becoming a stressed out, passionless, impatient parent for the rest of my life.


Message to myself: Don't be afraid of having to evolve.  Being pushed to the brink mentally made me look at my schedule and take action, like moving running to the mornings.  As mad as I was that I had to start doing that here and there, it turned out to be a great thing for me.  Being on the trails first thing in the morning for an hour of running was sometimes EXACTLY what I needed to start clearing my head.  Instead of just a short meditation to start the day, I was getting an hour of nature, elevated heart rate, and quiet time with my thoughts.  I also found that having that "off the list" early in the day, took off the possible stress of making sure my lunch time was protected for a run later in the day. 

Two years already.....

The timing of Sutton's birthday times quite well with the birth of spring, and thus a chance for renewal.  A chance to let go of something that's holding me back, or to implement a practice in hopes of a richer experience. I'm planning do to a little of both......

I've used the months post my explosion and leading up to Suttons birthday (this week) to really focus on the things I can do to help me be a better dad, and hopefully enjoy each day a little more. 
I immediately saw my counselor the day after the blow up, and it was incredibly productive. 
We really honed in on the idea that my anger, to that level, comes from a fear of being trapped, and helpless. It really clicked because that's certainly how I felt that day. Trapped because we couldn't leave for a while based on daycare opening, and helpless because his shit fit was about nursing, which is something I clearly cannot fix as a dad. 

The nursing element also was a major trigger for me.  For whatever reason, I am/have been (it's improving) really "not ok" with the idea of him continuing to nurse.  Mostly because I know it's a crutch in his overall eating progress, and also because I know what a drain it is on Maura.  When he's melting down over wanting to nurse, I feel angry with him because I know how inconvenient it is for Maura, and us, especially when trying to be real adults in public.

So, all that's great, but what can I do about it? Well, first off, we're letting him nurse whenever he wants in the morning and working as much as we can to keep offering other food/milk.  Our nutritionist also recommended Maura not pump during school so her supply will start to deplete on its own and he'll hopefully lose interest.  Good news, that seems to be working out.  Over the last few weeks, we've had success with him only wanting to nurse a little in the morning, then on to some food/milk of his own.  On a few mornings I've been able to wake him, and get him to start with a sippy cup of milk instead of nursing.  It's a small win, but we'll take it!  

I also took the recent opportunity of a work trip to read the book "love and logic".  It really was a great read and helped me understand how Sutton's brain works, how to experiment with it (jedi mind tricks) and build empathy.  The experiments were really nothing more than offering him decisions as much as possible, and also asking him questions to keep him thinking.  It's amazing how much he actually understands at this point. 

I think the biggest step forward that I'm making, with the help of Everett, is the launch of a Dad support group in Asheville.  More to come on this, but the framework is there, and we're looking to get things going in the next few weeks. I feel like there's a need here, and with some help I'm ready to help provide some opportunities for Dads to come together and support Dads. 

Despite having the worst parenting experience of my life, I'm feeling confident that I can and have learned from it, and am doing what I can to be a better dad. I can let go of the guilt I put on myself after that day, and focus on the exciting things I'm doing now as a result. It should make for a fun and exciting summer.

2019 - Impermanence

I'm trying to take advantage of the few minutes I have alone in the house to document my last month or so.  I've realized that writing has become a nice way of reflecting and processing some of the events of the last few weeks, being objective about them, and applying any new insights.  After just re-reading my last entry, I also think it's a good time to document some of the progress that's been made.   

Not sure what the cause of it has been, but I'm enjoying a little bit of a tail wind.  There's still a lot that's challenging but I want to embrace the some highlights.

Eating has been better, but our perspective has also improved.  When I took Sutton in for his first OT appt. in mid-Jan, he'd moved into the 4th percentile! (slow clap) Aside from an obvious increase in data point, which was great, this led us to the idea that not every meal is a life or death situation for him/us.  He ate horribly in Germany, and home wasn't great either recently, but despite all that, he was still growing just fine.  Just because he didn't eat well that night, he wasn't sleeping any less (any less than the 5am routine at least....) and we could/should allow ourselves the comfort of that and relax.  That mindset shift really seemed to be a breakthrough for us.  He's still a long way from the diet we'd prefer of him, but I didn't eat broccoli until I was in my 20's.....so there's that. 

Sleeping and the morning routine go hand in hand for us.  Fortunately getting him to sleep isn't the issue right now.  There's usually a power struggle through diaper/PJ's routine, but we've also managed that thru some clever Elephant towel puppetry while mom executes the costume change.  The struggle now is the morning wake up time.  Could be 6:15, could be 4:15.  When it's 4:15, we usually let him cry it out a bit, and almost every time he falls back asleep for a little while longer.....but we're awake at that point.  On those blessed 6:15 mornings, it's sipping coffee on the couch with Maura, her on FB, me on ESPN :).  When he wakes up though, his only thought is the boob.  He cannot be consoled otherwise, and Maura being in the house makes it worse.....until she leaves for work, and then he's really upset about things.  We've had to make a key decision, and that's that, while we REALLY don't want him nursing anymore, allowing it makes every one's morning better.  We then also realized that by allowing ourselves to be flexible in this area, he was easier to keep off the screen in the mornings, he typically would also eat a waffle or something more after Maura left, or in the car.  Having fun family mornings (well, increasing the chances of one..) was worth the extra burden of not forcing him off the morning boob feeding. Kind of a key decision and milestone for us in the "can't have it all" department....

This counseling things has been a nice accountability tool for me lately.  The discussions have spanned everything from running, to parenting, Sutton, Maura, work stuff and more. He's not been overly prescriptive, but helps me talk through things on my own and provides guidance and observations. It's nice that, while Maura and I still talk life stuff a lot together, she doesn't have to be the only one "helping" me manage a stressful time, since it's likely she's also stressed out if it's related to parenting stuff.

 It was my idea, and his encouragement that got me to finally try to make time to meditate. I found an app that has various durations and topics, and I started out by simply taking 10 minutes after a particularly stressful morning to sit down and just listen and follow directions.  It wasn't easy to stay focused, but I felt good after doing it. Much like it felt when I started running more often.  The hardest part is finding time, but for the last two weeks I've been able to get Sutton to school at a time that allows me enough time to drive up onto the parkway a little, sit on the tailgate and take part in the "daily calm" thru the app.  Usually this is around sunrise, so if I'm lucky I'm feeling the sun come over me during those 10 short minutes of focus, then opening my eyes to an amazing sunrise over Asheville.  This is something I can hopefully keep up with. 

Between the counseling and guided meditation, I feel like I've unlocked a few things about myself and about my parenting temperament.  My anger comes from two main places; fear of "forever" and fear of change.  It's a bit of a paradox in a way.  My fear of forever is usually in those moments of extreme stress or a prolonged period of exhaustion, like a series of early and difficult mornings.  In those moments I think "this is my life now, a screaming, demanding, crazy kid and it's always going to be like this....and we want another one. I'll never survive".  A mantra that's come up over and over to me during my mornings on the parkway has been that nothing is forever.  "The best part is, nothing lasts forever.  The worst part is, nothing lasts forever."  This has really helped me remember that on the other side of that thrown plate of food, or behind that flailing kick to the nuts is a loving hug and kiss during drop off, or a fist pound after laying him in his crib at night.

It's not that I don't like or handle change. I agreed and wanted to be a parent, and nothing says change more than that. This is more about my never ending goal to do it all. Pre-Sutton, Maura and I were always on the go, camping, running, costume event of some kind.....we lived a full life.  As parents, we still live a very active, on the go, lifestyle.  While this alone has it's challenges and trade offs, it's when a well laid out plan to "make it all work" goes to shit with one phone call from day care. Workouts, work meetings, running expectations and beyond all get thrown in the wood chipper as soon as you hear your kids temp broke the magical 100.0 barrier.  This is what I have trouble with.  Nothing feels as depleting as going home sick from work to recover, then getting a call from daycare that they are closing for weather, then having your kid get sick, so everyone is sick for days and it's freezing outside, you've got a race to run and a marathon to train for...... I don't have much of a plan here for addressing this yet. I know I need to learn to let things go, and in some cases that's much easier than others.  I guess I'm OK with simply knowing this is something to work on for right now. 

Feeling pretty good about stuff right now though...…
- Sutton says "yeah" also, instead of just "no"
- Johnny and the cast of Sing! have been making fewer appearances lately
- Despite unpredictable wake up times, I'm still getting my workouts in
- Mornings have been less crazy
- The sun is out more every day
- Watching Sutton learn to kick is adorable, as long as it's not my nuts
- Sutton's verbal skills are improving weekly
- We get told all the time how cute he is or how amazing his dancing is

Fire's going in the fire place while Kali lays in front of it and Maura naps with Sutton on the couch.  I'm finishing off a Hop Slam and watching the drizzle outside.  Tomorrow will be something different.

2018 Reflections

I'm currently sitting alone at "The Casual Pint", it's 3:13 on a Friday, and I'm killing time with a casual pint before picking up Sutton.  Somehow I reminded myself I've been wanting to write a little more, and actually had time in that moment to do it.  So I am. 

2018 was hard. While the growing connections we experienced during toddlerhood were amazing, they each had their dark side.  Learning to scoot, and crawl meant we could explore more territory together, but it also meant you wanted to be on the go constantly, which meant Maura and I played "tag" a lot when it came to dinners out.  Throwing a ball becomes throwing food, and everything else.  Talking becomes learning "no" and using it for all responses. Even his cutest and most adorable asset, his dance moves, became a constant struggle during the evolution of pandora, and You Tube videos. He literally would wake up, shimmy his shoulders, and say "dance? dance?"

Maura and I are still working very actively on his eating and sensory stuff, so introducing these other developments along the way had us working overtime in the parenting department.  It felt like, for the first time, parenting style and rules were important for us to survive.

I know we didn't make it easy on ourselves, we went to NJ for Kyle's wedding in April, spent Memorial Day weekend camping in the rain, traveled to Michigan via Jon's wedding in July, then to Hilton Head at the end of July. Another 2 camping trips in Sept and Oct and then to Germany for Christmas.  Wow, I guess that is a lot.  While these trips were all amazing (aside from Memorial Day) they all had considerable stress related to it, whether it was the lack of Sutton eating, sleeping or both.  I like to think that those issues will be better during those trips in 2019. 

Best memories of trips this year:
- Sutton and Maura watching me give Kyles best man speech
- My EJ friends playing with Sutton on the party bus
- Sutton dancing at Jons wedding
- Bike trip and canoe trip in EJ
- Watching Sutton and Maddie skip stones
- All things camping
- Suttons passport getting stamped
- Sutton hugging Emi
- Sutton and Maura on the train in Hiedleburg

So this stuff was all great, but there's a lot I have learned this year that I need to work on.  We started 2018 with sleep being so bad that we hired a sleep consultant, and thankfully it worked well. It had to, because I'm pretty sure that listening to your child scream for an hour was the hardest thing I'd ever done (to that point).  It's become pretty clear that sleep, or the lack of it, totally brings out the worst in me though so things needed to change, and fast.  I am not proud of how I've interacted with Sutton in the middle of some of those nights, or mornings.  I spent several mornings dropping him off at school, and then, once I've had the chance to have a single uninterrupted thought, I cry. 

I cry because I am struck with guilt of some of  the things I've thought or said or acted.  I cry because I feel hopeless and helpless in trying to care for someone who clearly needs more help than I feel prepared to handle every day.  I cry because I feel like I go days, and sometimes weeks without having a single thought of my own that's not tied to meeting a basic need of my sons, while also micro managing my own behavior along the way.  It's incredible overwhelming at times.

I don't always cry out of sadness or frustration though, that's the kicker out of this whole parenting thing.  I cried at Thanksgiving when I watched Sutton trying to keep up with the big kids.  I cried when he first tried to sign "I love you" when I dropped him off at school.  I cry just about every time I think about any of the amazing things I got to experience with him, and as a family this past year, and I'm currently crying while typing about it now.

I think if I had to boil down 2018 and 2019 into one concept, it's this: 2018 brought my biggest parenting fears into sight, and in 2019 I need to learn to manage them.  What am I scared of?

Sutton's eating: I am a picky eater, and was my whole life.  As a result I was always a small, picked on kid, and I know it created  lot of stress on my parents for years! I feel both guilty about that trait, or path, being his because of me, and I'm fearful of how I'll be able to help him with this along the way and IF I can handle the stress that comes with it.

Anger management: Both mine, and his.  I know I can get really aggressive, and physical with my emotions.  Not in a dangerous, hurt people way, but I've broken several golf clubs and have been known to burn a sports jersey from time to time if that's any indicator. I know I can't act like that in front of him, but when he does bite, or hit (which has been a lot recently) it's hard for me not to blame myself for something I may have done previously and not realized it  Also, it's really hard to police myself 24/7.  Especially in a place like Germany, where it was all of us together for 7 days. 

So what am I doing about it?  I'm seeing a counselor.  Bi-weekly, 50 minutes.  So far it's ok.  We'll see.  I think this time of year is particularly hard on me, and probably Maura and Sutton as well.  I know our sleep rut hasn't helped any of the stress.  Maura and I had some really productive talks at the end of our Germany trip (Atlanta Airport BW3) and also the other day about our parenting goals and ensuring we're aligned.  I need to be a better teammate to her, and stop retreating so easily.  I think that'll come. 

Ok, beers done, gotta get Sutton. 

Fathers Day 2017 Reflection

There's really no way to describe the last 3 months that has been the journey of fatherhood.  But I'll do the best I can, considering it's my first Fathers Day, and my birthday, and tomorrow is Sutton's "3 month" mark, I owe it to myself, and to him to document these feelings while they are fresh. 

I've trained for some tough races. And throughout all of those training programs I've faced tough days.  "I can't do this anymore".  "I quit".  "Why would anyone ever want to do this?".  However, I learned through those moments that the payoffs are incredibly worth it:  The turn onto Boylston Street in Boston; cresting the top of Shut In Ridge;  or finishing first in a 209 mile utlra relay.  None of which would be as memorable, or possible in most cases without pushing myself to a breaking point in the name of trying to find something in myself I didn't know I had.  Fatherhood, as I've found, can be very similar. 

We're 3 months in. I don't have this figured out.  Not by a long shot.  But like any new passion, fatherhood included, the journey and the self-learning is worth it 100 fold. 

The toughest days thus far have been in weeks 3-7.  The help had mostly been removed, and Maura and I were left to figure out the "new normal".  Me back at work, her having to fend for herself alone all day with Sutton.  We quickly learned that what worked one day wouldn't mean it worked the next, or the next or the next, but sometimes it did, and sometimes things that never worked, sometimes did.  For two Type-A people, this is incredible challenging to deal with. 

The day that sticks out the most during this time is what we (now) luaghingly refer to as "that Friday".  The day Sutton cried for nearly 12 hours on and off, with nothing that would help.  Maura had done her best to mask how bad it was in her texts that day but I could tell it was hard for her.  I got home as quick as I could and walked in to a crying wife and child.  "I need a shower my back hurts so bad" she said as she gave him to me and ran up stairs to shower.  It crushed my soul to see them both so sad.  But, we survived.  I knew then what people meant when they said "just get through the first 6 weeks". 

There were several days similar but not as long.  Tempers were tested, and broken in these days.  There were nights where Maura and I talked openly about how hard this was and how moments of doubt were creeping in about whether or not we were appropriately equipped for all this.  As bad and as dark as these days were, I'm so thankful we kept an open line of communication open. The balance of being able to share frustrations and not put more on the other, who's feeling the same, is not easy at all. It's like holding a bucket of water out in each arm, until you're totally fatigued, and then having someone say "I'm so tired, can you please hold my buckets?"  Somedays it felt like we were sacraficing ourselves to help the other....noble and stupid and the same time.  We both have to live to keep this train moving!

However, people don't get into this parenting thing because of the dark days.  Just like no one trains for a marathon because they love 20 mile runs in the summer heat/blistering cold. They do it because of the joys that come along the way.  The simple, daily reminders of why we took the leap we did.

The joys...........which are now more abundant after the first 6 weeks :)

Being the first thing my son sees in the morning is my favorite thing in the history of ever.  No matter how many IPA's I had the night before, when I un-velcro that swaddle, his arms shoot up over his head for a stretch, he lets out a groan and then he smiles at me, I absolutely melt.  Every time.  Feeding him in the rocker in his room with the sun coming in, his eyes locked with mine, it's absolute bliss.  I love it. 

Turns out Sutton loves being outside (shocker) so taking him for walks in the stroller are awesome ways to calm him, and it's our "family" time most nights when I get home from work.  We bring the speaker for some tunes, some roadies and Kali and we make some loops.  Being that I'm gone at work, this is great "face time" for me and him, and we all get some time to talk about the day and get some excercise in too.  I'm a true suburbanite in this moment. My fav memory of this was when our neighbors Bruce and Linda drove by and wanted to see Sutton so bad, Linda damn near jumped out of the car before Bruce fully stopped she was so excited to see him. 

Maura will tell you I'm not a great dancer.  I think I'm ok, especially after drinking, but what's most important is that Sutton loves it.  The "Dance and Jiggle" is my new specialty and favorite.  Usually it's Bob Marley, soemtimes it's "80's comeback, 90's throwback" on Pandora.  Whatever the flavor, I love holding Sutton in my arms and dancing with him and singing to him (poorly) until he falls asleep.  I love watching his eyes grow heavy and his head weightless against my chest until he falls asleep.  There are many times my back and arms hurt so bad I can barely stand it, but I'd gladly do it until they fell off to have those moments.  If I'm lucky this leads to a nap for us both, with him on my chest, which is nothing short of amazing. 

Bedtimes are also fantastic.  Maura and I give him a nice warm bath and Maura helps me wrap him up and get him into his PJ's and then it's dinner time for Sutton while I read to him on the floor, Kali usually making her way up stairs to lay with me while I read.  Some times it's "The big red barn" and sometimes it's "Astrophysics for people in a hurry".  My personal fav is "Where the sidewalk ends" which was a childhood fav of mine, and I try my best to do my best Shel Silverstein when reading it to him. 

So.......life aint so bad. The lows are low, but becoming more manageable every day with the confidence that only comes through living those challenges.  The highs are like that I've never experienced, and would never want to be without now that I've experienced them. 

A new "ultra" begins......

3:15am-ish, March 19th, 2017
"Andy, wake up! I need you!!"

It felt like just seconds prior I was rocking a sweet TMNT T-shirt, a vest that would make Marty McFly swoon, and rocking to "The Breakfast Club" at the Orange Peel. My 40wk (to the day) partner-in-impending-parent-hood by my side....sporting a sweet side pony tail. A great Saturday night in full swing. 

Now, groggy and frantic, I'm throwing duffle bags into the truck as fast as I can (don't forget the Hopslam) and doing 65mph down Hendersonville Road towards Mission Hospital.  I'm going to be a dad today!!

I shit you not.......  Maura worked out that morning, I had the boat on jackstands with work on it saved 'til Sunday.  There was no concern about planning the next 24hrs.  Just 3 days prior we were talking about induction dates.  "see you next week" was the last thing our Dr. told us.  We had a date night ahead of us where we openly joked that mexican food and dancing would bring on the labor. We were dining at Mamacitas and watching Hoff's band open for Breakfast Club, our favorite 80's tribute band.

The evening went as planned; fantastic tacos, VIP access via Hoffman, and great music!  During one of Maura's MANY bathroom breaks, she texted me.  I didn't see it.  She shows up some time later and tells me "I just lost my mucous plug in the bathroom.  We should probably go after that beer to be safe".  God I love this woman.  I finished my beer at a less-than-urgent pace and we left. 

We got home and I was instructed to sleep while she stayed up to monitor her "crampy-ness".  I figured it was nothing and that she was just being a little nervous and that it was a true food baby feeling. 

Nope.  Truck now parked backwards in the ambulance area, I'm banging on the door of the apocolypticly empty hospital trying to get some help.  The security finally guard lets me in while Maura is on all fours in the driveway having contractions.  He gets a wheel chair and throws me his keys so we can get to the 4th floor.  Truck running, doors left open.  I'm going to be a dad today!! 

We get checked in and the nurses get us to our room.  A nice big room, with a tub and a decent view of the mountains.  Paige and Andrea, our doula's, meet us shortly.  The plan had been to have them with us at home, but when the contractions went from 7min to 2min, it was "I'll meet you at the hospital" time.

The next several hours were something I'll never forget. You take the classes, you see the videos, you read the books.  Nothing can prepare you for those hours.  Seeing Maura's toughness, her pain, her strength was nothing short of incredible. It killed me to not be able to take away that pain. Paige was amazing though and helped me feel confident.

We spent the first couple hours in the tub.  Paige squeezed Maura's hips while I held the puke bag during contractions. "Mumford and Sons" Pandora station on in the background. I would rub her shoulders and kiss her head and make sure she knew how great she was doing.  It was hard to keep myself together but since 100% of my thoughts were focused on Maura, I had no room left to worry about anything else.  At one point I helped Maura to the bathroom and in there she confessed "I dont know if I can do this without an epidural".  "you are already doing it, and I know you can keep doing it" I reminded her.  I know she didn't want one, but just her admitting that doubt in herself, I knew the pain had to be horrible on her. 

Paige was great at moving Maura through various positions to help keep her relatively comfortable.  We moved to the bed where Maura laid on her side, the pain was so intense, and we made "horse sounds" for what seemed like a long time.  It seemed really silly, even at the time, "make WHAT sound?" but it worked, and you could instantly see how the change in breathing made a difference for Maura.

We really had a good system going.  I was digging deep into my bag of running mantras and tried to keep Maura focused.  "ok, here we go, we got a hill coming (contraction) so keep focused, keep those feet moving, you can do this".  Ice chips, and electrolyte drinks to follow, also making sure to refresh to cold wash cloth on her shoulders and forehead.  I was her pacer for this race, and I was going to make sure we got to the finish line!   

Around that time our Dr. kneeled down by Maura's head and said to her "my shift is about to end so we're bringing in Dr. Wright"........(insert sound of record skipping).....not the thing you expect to deal with when your this close to baby town!!  We really liked Dr. Wright though (Dr. Bob to me) so we didn't panic too much. 

Dr. Bob arrived and it was PUSH time!  The room started to transform before me, and you could tell it was about to get real serious in there.  Small metal tables were wheeled in from the back room.  The nurses cleaning and placing the stainless steel tools onto the sterile paper on top.  A support bar was added to the end of the bed with a glorifed dog rope/toy tied to the middle. All the while Dr. Bob sat on the endge of the tub dressed in full scrubs, legs crossed, facing my wife and the pit crew of nurses, just observing. 

Maura's pain was beyond anything I could imagine and the change in the contractions could be felt in her cries each time.  Each one piercing my heart, each one bringing us a little closer to meeting our miracle.  She pulled herself up and pushed with everything she had through the pain.  The release after each push seemed to be the hardest.  The head was now starting to show, so the pain didn't 100% go away in between.  "how many more?" she kept asking.  Of course it doesn't work that way with this process, but as runners, we like our metrics and knowing where that finish line is.  "There's the Citgo sign, you can see it, you're almost there.  (For anyone who's run the Boston Marathon, when you can see the Citgo sign, you're a little over a mile from the finish and is well known for being when you really have to dig in). 

Just like that, she gave a good push, and we could hear everyone start to cheer and say "here we go!!" and Dr. Bob raised the little one up to where we could see.  The emotional release was second to none.  The focus and activity for the last 6.5 hours had built a dam around my emotions, and seeing my child come into the world for the first time broke through it instantly and a steady flow of tears ran down my face.  I reached for the washcloth that covered the moment we'd been waiting for.  Through the sobbing tears and lump in my throat I was able to barely get out "it's a boy"!!  and again another wave of complete love and emotion took over.  I cut the cord and Sutton was bundle up and handed to mom, where she could finally be eye to eye with him.  He was perfect.  I just became a dad.  We just became a family.