Rain, Rain, Go Away.

Alrighty then—now that we established what happened with the whole birth part of the story and I’ve talked about some more recent stuff… we can move forward, or onward you might say, in the past, but still onward… in the story, and can now discuss our Portland/Vancouver life a little bit.

I think I mentioned earlier that we were living in a small city called Vancouver, Washington at the time of Emmy’s birth; she was born in Portland, though, and thank the Lord for that. Not that Vancouver is a bad place or anything, but there are definitely some crazies up there and who even knows that there’s a Vancouver in Washington. Anyways, Emmy is Portland-born and she lived there (or near) for the first eight-or-so months of her life.

Now, I’m just going to give you the first 3/4 year of her life in a short, small, little nutshell. When our tubular little tyke was born, it was right in the heart of the rainy season, which worked for the FIRST few months of her life because she was fairly immobile and we weren’t really supposed to take her outside anyway. The more time moved forward and the bigger she grew though, the more we longed to get away from our dreary little apartment on the bottom floor in the small, hardly-known town that is America’s Vancouver.

Peruse On…

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The Good, the Bad, and the Bloody: The Final Chapter

Where we are: the home stretch and almost with a baby in hand.

Warning: this is the graphic one, the final piece of the parental puzzle, the blood, guts, and gore of the story. Prepare yourself.

blood and guts

Resuming in 3…2…1…

So there we were, sitting stunned at the words that the doctor had just muttered. C-section? Why? How? I wanted to ask if we maybe hadn’t tried something, had forgotten a special way to get a baby out when they seem to be being stubborn. I knew the answer, though. I knew that it shouldn’t take two-and-a-half hours of pushing to get a baby out; I knew that the baby was probably stuck and I couldn’t help but be scared half out of my mind for her and for Kayleigh. That wasn’t how things were supposed to go, yet there we were.

Kayleigh cried. I tried my best not to cry myself but I believe that I probably betrayed a few tears at the time. I was scared to death and I couldn’t help but show it just a little. At the moment you’re told your girlfriend needs a c-section to get your baby out, a lot of things flash through your head: Is the baby going to be okay? Is Kayleigh going to be okay? What would I do if something were to happen to either of them? I know, I know, a little paranoid, right? Not really, though, not if you’ve ever read one of those terrible, depressing stories about the semi-rare accident or the unforeseen complications that have happened to couples just like you…

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The Good, the Bad, and the Bloody: Part Deux

WARNING: Part two of this here series is a little more, uh, let’s call it risqué. So if you’re uncomfortable with a slightly immature man-child describing exactly what he sees while watching his woman give birth: stop reading now.

Picking up where we left off:

With the continued screams coming from the room next door, I watched as Kayleigh’s face filled with more and more fear and what looked like an intense dread, all mixed with nausea that I myself will never know. Let me regress and backtrack a little bit…

The Vomit Files:

puke
So my poor, beautiful, amazing girlfriend was plagued with nausea throughout her entire pregnancy. The stomach-churning, toilet-feeding, car-wrecking stomach sickness came on fairly early on; like five-ish weeks along early. I’m just going to describe to you her first experience with what they call “morning sickness” and then probably fast-forward back to the Day of the Daughter.

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The Good, the Bad, and the Bloody

Alright, so I guess I should start, well, at the beginning and we can just work our way forward.

The day my daughter was born was the most magical, most incredible, most eye-opening day of my life in more ways than one:

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     First– my girlfriend and I lived through something we never pictured we would live through together when we first started dating four-and-a-half years prior.

     Second– I got to meet the love of my life literally seconds after she was born.

     Third– I was suddenly thrust into fatherhood and realized that I was now responsible for a tiny little life and it scared the hell out of me.

     Fourth– I got to see what my girlfriend’s insides look like.

Seriously. Now enough with the overview; let’s get to the good stuff:

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