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.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Monday, June 19, 2017
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.
"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.
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