If I Face' and 'Space, do I have to Tweet too?

Are we really being social, or anti-social being part of all of these "social-networking" sites.

I understand that the social networking thing is huge. It's a great way to keep in touch with people who you would otherwise not keep in touch with but it's also an amazing time-suck!

The other part is, you have to figure out what your intended audience is. I mean, should I be writing this blog on Twitter, so that all of my friends (none of which are on Twitter that I know of) could see this blog post automatically? Or should I just post a link on Facebook to say "Hey, here's another story about my life... look at me... look at me!"

We now live in an extremely vain society, where 1 1/2 year old children can't even wait to see what their picture looks like, because they say "Lemme see, lemme see" two seconds after you snap a photo. Can you imagine waiting a FULL MINUTE to see a Polaroid "Instant" picture develop before your eyes in today's society? I mean seriously, I think some kids would have a nervous breakdown waiting that long. Or, at least they would have sent a text message to twelve of their friends saying that they were waiting to see a picture develop.

Everything is "instantaneous" and we all love to share. Photos, stories, experiences and whatever else we can think of. It's great for keeping in touch with family, and showing photos of your kids to friends and relatives in other countries who wouldn't otherwise get to share and experience the same things at the same time as people living next door if the technology wasn't there.

However, this past weekend we were at my wife's parent's house looking through old photo albums looking for a baby photo of her for a work related event at her company. While physically browsing page by page through the albums there is a certain kind of heartfelt intimacy and nostalgia to the hard bound photo albums. The time, effort and care that went into putting those albums together over the course of several years provides you with a different kind of feeling and family history.

Now, I post my photos to Kodak Gallery or Flickr to share them with friends and family, or even a "baby blog" website for my daughter, which is great because I can provide the story along with the photos. But, there is just something so much more personal and emotional about flipping through the pages of a photo album that was put together thirty-plus years ago.

Flipping through those pages got me thinking about where these photos and websites are going to be thirty years from now? Will my kids, or my Grandkids be able to click on a website and "thumb" through our photos and stories when they're looking for baby pictures for a company event?

The way things have gone in recent years, or even months, I don't know if those sites, or companies will be here thirty years from now, so I think the "old fashioned" way of keeping photos is going to be the best way to retain these pictures and stories. I may even start creating a soft-bound book and include the blog stories along with the pictures. It's just something to ponder.

As for all of the social networking sites, I think I'll stick to just two for now, and wait for another one to come along in the not so distant future and see what that offers us and where it takes us. I Face' more than I 'Space now, and I have two blogs with another one on the way (since baby #2 is just months away) but I don't Tweet. However, according to the name of this blog, I do chirp!

A Brutal Week!

The past seven to ten days have been pretty brutal. Not in the fact that things are going badly or that any "major" changes have been happening, there is just one thing that has been making the last week or so really tough… Lack of Sleep!

My daughter, Isabelle, is teething. At least we think she is teething. So, she has not been sleeping through the night very much since the Friday before last. She has been waking up between 1 and 3 a.m. a bit fussy and then when you settle her down, she just doesn’t want to go back to sleep, she’s ready to party. At her daycare, they actually call her “party-girl”, I hope that moniker goes away by the time she’s out of pre-school, God help me!

Whenever this happens, Daddy has night-time duty. So, I get up with her and I either bring her down into the living room and put her into the swing and we watch a little television, while Daddy tries to catch some more z’s on the couch. However, this method that used to work like a charm and lull her back to sleep has failed miserably in recent attempts.

She now begins throwing her binky and monkey blanket about the room and leans over and looks at me while I sleep on the couch with her arms dangling over the edge of the swing like a monkey swinging by its tail off a tree limb.

As cute as this really looks, it’s not so charming or cute at 3 in the morning.

The next phase after this 45 minute failed attempt is to bring her back upstairs to her room, and try to see if she’ll rock in the rocking chair for a few and put her cute little head on Daddy’s chest and fall asleep. Once again, in recent attempts, miserable failure!

Izzie pushes away from me and wants to get down and play with her toys and “read” her books. I mean why not, she’s wide awake right? So, I put her on the floor to play with her toys and she starts walking around her bedroom carrying any number of books or stuffed animals in a dizzying circular motion. I don’t know if the dizzying effort is for her, for me or to lull the stuffed animals into a false sense of security, but either way, my head starts spinning and Daddy needs to lie down on the floor.

While we are both now on the floor, Izzie starts handing books to me to read to her. I do my best to keep my eyes open and be at least mildly entertaining in the state I’m in. She usually gets bored rather quickly at my mediocre late night/early morning reading skills and takes the book from my hands barely halfway through and discards it immediately. She then picks up another book or toy and comes back over and basically sits on my chest or hip, bounces a few times, gives me a look and a giggle through her binky-filled mouth and goes back to playing with her chosen toy.

Our next fun step is cranky time. We’ve now been up around an hour and a half to two hours and we’re both getting sleepy again. Isabelle starts getting tired and rubbing her eyes. Daddy starts yawning and rubbing his watery eyes as well. It’s hard to tell which one of us is crankier at this point, but I’m going to have to lean toward Daddy.

Now, as much as you’re told not to give your baby a bottle in the middle of the night because they will get used to waking up to eat, you’ll do anything to get them to settle down and get back to sleep. To add to this, Isabelle hasn’t been eating very well lately because we think her teeth and mouth have been bothering her, so, she probably is waking up hungry as well, and that bottle isn’t going to hurt as far as I’m concerned.

And it’s a proven fact in the Daddy science book (that I am currently writing) that warm milk makes you sleepy and want to snuggle up with your stuffed animals. So, warm milk it is, and it usually does the trick. Lately, however, her awake times have been a little longer so, Sandy, aka Mommy, has been getting up at the four or five o’clock hour and giving Izzie the bottle.

To be honest, Mommy does have more of a magic touch when it comes to bedtime than Daddy does. It usually takes Mommy about 25-30 minutes to get Izzie back to sleep, and I welcome the peace and quiet and comfort of my bed after a long couple of hours awake in the middle of the night. Of course, getting back into bed and having to jockey for position with the two dogs is a story for another day.

What we did notice this weekend is that Isabelle’s two front teeth at the top that have come through, and two more on either side of her two front teeth are close behind. It also looks like two more bottom teeth on either side of her front teeth are on their way as well. Hopefully, when these come through, things will settle down a little bit and we can all get some sleep. Because I know I need it, and I’m sure everyone else in the house would benefit too!

It’s Official… I’m a Dad!

The past year has been an amazing experience, raising my first born, and figuring out how to do, what to do, when to do, why to do and what the F was that, is all part of the amazing process of raising my daughter.

My daughter, Isabelle, turned one on January 31st. She is the most beautiful, cutest and amazing thing I’ve even laid my eyes on. Except when she’s screaming her brains out at 3 a.m. and Daddy wants her to go back to sleep… but other than that, of course, she’s perfect.

The other day I picked her up from day care and brought her to the grocery store. I put her in her carriage and we were walking through the aisles and she started pointing and talking or more appropriately, making noises at different things she saw in the store.

So, being the good Daddy I am, I start repeating the noises back to her or saying the names of the things she was pointing at to her. What I failed to notice until later, however, was I was making goofy noises and sounds and talking gibberish outloud and the people walking by me started looking at me.

Then it hit me. I’ve heard people talking about doing anything for your child. And heard stories about people making complete fools out of themselves in public for their child’s amusement, but never really thought I would get to that level. But I obviously did while at the grocery store.

The best part about it… I didn’t really care what other people thought. Izzie was happy as can be, making noises, talking jibberish and saying whatever sound came to her little mouth. And I was happy enough to say it right back.

We had a great time walking through the grocery store which I’ve come to find out is one of her favorite places to go. As she never seems to get fussy while we’re in the grocery store and is always super talkative.

She definitely is my little princess and I’m her Dad, and I’d do anything for her. Even make a complete fool out of myself in the middle of the grocery store just to keep a smile on her face. How could I not?

A Life Changing Event

For those of you who know me, the last year and a half of my life has been pretty crazy.

It basically went from one extreme to another.

From the Toilet to the Tops.

From Misery to Amazing.

From the Shitter to The Shit!

You get the idea… anyway… for those of you who don't know me so well… here's the recap.

In late 2005, things in my personal life weren't going so well. My professional life and my career were going great, but my personal life… not so much.

I had been married just two years, and my relationship started to deteriorate pretty quickly. Not exactly what I expected. I fought to keep things going. I thought if I tried hard enough, I could fix it, and it just didn't happen.

I met with a lawyer in August of 2006, by mid-September I was officially divorced. Quick, to the point and pretty much painless. It took a total of 44 days from the day I met the lawyer till the day I stood in court.

It was a totally weird experience, pretty surreal, almost like it didn't really happen to me. The divorce process was so easy, too easy, and that made it even weirder and made me feel like the idea of marriage was total bullshit and fake. And that really bothered me. I mean the relationship I was in wasn't really good for almost a year before that, but still, the ease at which I got divorced was kind of shocking to me. And made the idea of marriage seem so unimportant, and not permanent like I think it should be. Thank god we didn't have any kids. That was the one good thing I thought about.

Shortly after I was "officially" divorced, I started the art of attempting to date again. Going out with my friends, meeting random people in bars, trying to set up dates and right off the bat, I was a little bit tired of the idea of having to do that again.

So, in our technological age, I tried the online dating thing and found some truly strange women. Some women who thought you should meet right away after you said "Hi" in your first email. Other women who wanted to talk on the phone after your second bit of correspondence (I guess the grade school phone conversation is still a big deal).

I emailed back and forth with a couple of people a few times then lost interest when I found that their idea of humor was non-existent… and again I was getting a little bored.

Then, one day, I received an email, or a "wink" from a woman on the site, so I decided to check out her profile. She was cute, and, her profile was funny, she actually had a sense of humor, as was very light-hearted and she could actually write. Call me conceded but I like my women literate!

So, I perved… I mean… checked out her profile a couple of times and decided to write her back.

We went back and forth via email a few times, then started IM'ing each other for about a week and then decided to meet in person… On a Sunday night.

We were a little tense and awkward at first. Not knowing what to expect from each other. And not really knowing how things were going to go, so we did what anyone usually does in that situation… "Bartender, another round please!"

We actually ended up having a great time. We giggled at each others jokes. We laughed at people in the bar we went to. And in general had a great time. We had fun, something I hadn't had in quite a while.

And since then, I've had more fun, more laughs and more happiness than I thought was possible. Things have clicked so great in the past twelve months that I don't even remember how I was surviving before.

Now, to be honest, I've had my own emotional bumps and bruises during the past year.

Wondering if I should be in a relationship, after getting divorced.

Wondering if I could meet someone and ever be happy again.

Hearing other people tell me that I should take my time.

Tell me "you need at least a year to get over what you went through."

"Don't do the rebound thing!" and blah blah blah!

But what if, that person I meet, is the person I was always looking for?

What if that person and I really click?

Where is the rule written that I can't fall in love with someone?

Why does there have to be an allotted time period?

Why can't this person be "the one"?

Because of all of the "help" and opinions I was receiving from everyone around me I caused myself and her some real emotional distress. My own insecurity about "allowing" myself to fall in love again, about feeling guilty because I was happy, that I was with someone who wanted to be with me and I didn't care what anyone else thought. That part was tough for me, and it wasn't a peach for her either, I'm sure.

Slowly I came to realize that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It matters what I think, and what the person that I'm with thinks. Am I happy? Is she happy? Does it work? Do things make sense? Am I looking for something more or have I found it?

So I went through my emotional check list and said you know what… F**k everyone else I'm happy. I'm in love, I don't have to change the person I am when I'm around her and around my friends. We're completely comfortable together. Do I really need anything else to convince me that I'm in a good place and that I'm supposed to be with her, that I'm happy?

We had talked about her moving in because she was staying with me most of the time anyway. It would make it easier for both of us and I was happy as happy could be.

Her name is Sandy, and she is the one for me… she filled my heart and made me happy again.

I didn't think anything else could make me feel any different, any better than I was already feeling…

Then…

It didn't really come out of nowhere, but it became evident quite quickly.

She loves to workout, loves to run. She would get up on the weekends and give me a kiss on the cheek while I was still in bed and say "I'm going for a run". My response, still half asleep and groggy was "huh?"

She would do the same thing during the week. She would get up before work, and go for a run and come back and jump in the shower before I even knew the sun came up.

Then one day I wake up and she's not in bed next to me, but I hear her coming up the stairs, she walks back into the bedroom and gets back into bed. She looks at me and I ask "are you ok?"

"I don't feel good" she says.

"Do you want me to get anything for you?"

"No, I'm just gonna sleep a little longer."

"Okay sweetie."

So, I kiss her on the cheek and thought nothing of it. The next day, the same thing. The day after that, she's still not feeling well. After about a week, it starts to sink in, and to be honest, the feeling I had inside me was the most clear, calm, soothing, happy feeling I can describe.

The feeling I had inside of me was almost like when you are laying on the beach early in the morning on a beautiful 85 degree day, with a slight breeze. All you can hear are the birds, the wind and the ocean. You take a deep breath and close your eyes and relax and you're completely content and at peace… that's what I felt.

We sort of hinted about it to each other for the next week or so and finally figured we should take a test. She called me and said she bought a test at the drug store, went back to the office and peed on the stick. She said it took about a half second for the stick to go positive. She called me back and, well, I'm sure you know already…

BINGO, we're pregnant!

I was so happy and content and comforted by the thought of us becoming parents. Me becoming a Dad, and the woman that I am having this child with is perfect for me. We compliment each other so well and we make a great team. I couldn't ask for a more perfect woman for me and it helps that I am also madly in love with her.

To me, that is the key to my happiness, and as queer and corny as it sounds, the line from Jerry Maguire is true. She completes me. She makes my life happier and I couldn't ask for anything more.

We waited till we were well past the end of the first trimester before we started telling anyone. Of course we started hearing the obligatory "are you going to get married" and her response when her Dad asked when we told him was "eventually, yeah, eventually."

Her response made me smile, because that's exactly what I wanted to say. After the experience I went through, there was a little dent in armor of the "union" of marriage. The divorce part was too easy and I didn't like it. It is indeed just a piece of paper to a lot of people and I want it to be much more than that.

We will eventually get married, no date set yet, but I can definitely picture us getting married, and that's huge for me considering everything.

My one regret, for her sake, is that I didn't do this the way "you're supposed to". The courtship, the engagement, and do it in the order it is traditionally supposed to be done. But then again, what is really traditional any more these days.

I did go about things in the traditional sense to a point. I had tried for a couple of days to talk to her father in person, and it never happened. Getting your girlfriend's father alone in a house full of people is almost impossible.

Then, it took me two days to actually get him on the phone. There I sat, in the parking lot of a Shaw's supermarket, I asked her Dad for his permission to marry her. And his response was all I could ask.

"Of course you have my blessing. We are so happy for the both of you. The more I thought about everything, there really is no 'Traditional' any more. As long as you are both happy, we're happy for you!"

And that was that…

I went back home that night, and proceeded to propose to Sandy in the room where our baby would soon sleep. It was emotional, and amazing and almost made us feel larger than life. We were both so happy.

And to boot, I got extra kudos for asking her Dad permission. It was worth the extra nerves on my part to get her father's permission. I think he appreciated it too! I know she did.

At work, my benefits department calls marriage, divorce and birth "Life Changing Events". I've already done the first two. The third will be incredible and probably the most substantial, (and it was… see my "We're Having a Baby" blog) and eventually I'll do the first one right this time.

Our lives take so many twists and turns, ups and downs, good times and bad times. It is incredible how we end up where we are.

They are indeed life changing events and this time, it's for the better!

We're Having A Baby!

On January 19th, 2008 we were supposed to have a baby… it didn’t really happen as planned as you can imagine…

Nine days later, we went to the hospital for Sandy to begin being induced. Again, that didn’t really happen as planned…

Here is how things went down starting the day we headed to the hospital on Tuesday, January 29th, 2008.

That morning, we got to the hospital a little after 9 a.m. and were admitted to the Maternity Ward, where we were placed in a room and shortly thereafter Sandy was hooked up to an IV and the nurse started to administer Pitocin which is supposed to ripen the cervix and speed up the labor process.

However, this did not do very much for Sandy to get her into labor. She was on a Pitocin drip for the entire first day we were in the hospital and hooked up to a baby monitor as well and nothing happened. The nurse came in a few times during the night to adjust the baby monitor that was strapped around her stomach, but other than that zip, zero, zilch, nothing, nada!

One funny episode that happened the first day was, while Sandy and I were in our room, just sitting there talking to each other, one of the people from the adjoining rooms entered that bathroom that is shared with our room, went in and started using the toilet.

As they were in there, they let out a long, loud, echoing fart as they were going the bathroom.

Well, as mature as Sandy and I are, we immediately started giggling. And with great timing, the nurse came in to start giving Sandy instructions on what they were going to be doing and we still couldn’t stop giggling. The nurse finally just stopped and turned around and said “I’ll come back later to check on you!” It was a very fun and very amusing part of the day.

I slept in the same room on an “oh so comfortable” cot and tried to get as much sleep as possible. With the baby monitor beeping all night and then a little alarm going off in the middle of the night because the monitor lost the heart rate (which causes a little panic, let me tell you). The monitor belt had simply slipped off to the side and needed to be readjusted.

So, on day number two, with a birthing room available and Sandy “ready to go” at any second (yeah right), they moved us down to one of the larger birthing rooms in the other wing.

We got settled into our new room, and the nurses came in again, hooked Sandy up to the heart rate monitor for the baby, and once again started the Pitocin drip. And for another 8-10 hours, we sat there and nothing happened. Sandy would get a little crampy and uncomfortable, but nothing much other than that happened.

One thing that was happening was Sandy was starving. She hadn’t really eaten a decent meal since we got to the hospital. The other thing was Sandy’s regular doctor was done early in the morning on Wednesday and was going to be off for the next couple of days.

The bad thing about that was the doctor who was covering for her was Dr. Ritcher. This is the guy who at her second appointment after finding out she was pregnant (about 8 weeks) asked her if she had been gorging because she had gained thirteen pounds since her last visit.

It was basically like the movie “Knocked Up”. The doctor that we absolutely didn’t want to deliver the baby, was going to be the one delivering the baby. Sandy was not happy.

As day two rolled along, nothing happened except the changing of the guard. Nurse after nurse came through the door, more adjusting of the monitor, checking the time, checking the ‘drip, asking how Sandy is feeling, over and over and over.

The weirdest part about all this, is the nurses would come through the door, put on a latex glove, squeeze a little ketchup packet of lube on their fingers, sit down at the end of the bed, put the hand up Sandy’s sheet, do the “mmmhmm, mmmmhmmm”, and move on.

There was no introduction, hi, how you doing, nothing. Just, pull, rip, squirt, sit, lift, push, mmmhmm, mmmhmmm, rip, trash and out the door.

I was sitting there like “who the F was that?” So weird.

By the time 6 p.m. rolled around. Dr. Ritcher finally came into the room and said, “Ok this is what we’re gonna do, we’re going to switch you to Cervadil which is basically a pill on a string that we press into your cervix to induce you. If that doesn’t work, since I’ll be the one to examine you in the morning, we’ll just move you right in to do a C-Section. OK?”

Sandy’s only response to that was “Can I eat something? I’m starving!” So, I went to Bertucci’s and got us some food. Which was much needed. As I’m sure you all know how yummy hospital food is.

One of the strange things that was happening or not happening as it were, was Sandy was not dialating at all. And the fear was that when Sandy was younger, she had a LEEP procedure, (http://www.womenshealth.org/a/leep_info.htm) and the nurses and doctor thought it might have caused scar tissue which was preventing her cervix to soften enough to stretch and finally dialate enough. However, that was not the case.

So, after having something to eat and watching TV for a little while, we were exhausted, and we really hadn’t done anything other than wait. Around 9 p.m. we turned out the lights and went to sleep. The nurses were still in and out monitoring the baby’s heart rate which had been fluctuating drastically all day. They would get a good even rate, then the rate would spike, then the rate would drop, so they were watching that very closely.

Then, around 2 a.m. Sandy woke up and said to me, “I feel like I’m going to be sick.” So, I got one of the puke trays and put it in front of her face and she vomited a little. One of the nurses came in and began to monitor the heart monitor a little more closely. Another nurse came in and did the “pull, rip, squirt, sit, lift, push, mmmhmm, mmmhmm, rip, trash and out the door.”

Sandy said she was feeling crampy, uncomfortable and sick. She was getting more and more aggravated at me because I was holding the tray close to her face, tucking her hair behind her ears and kissing her on the forehead all while she was getting sick. Basically telling me to back off so I don’t think she’s so disgusting. Ahh, True Love!

The more sick feeling Sandy got, the hotter and more uncomfortable she got and the more one of the nurses kept saying in a soft annoyingly pleasant voice, “that’s good, that’s what you want to feel, you’re doing great, just like that, mmhmm!”

We both wanted to tell her to shut up, however, in retrospect, she was really helpful in keeping us calm and focused. She was actually really great. But at the time, she was annoying as hell.

By about 3 a.m. Sandy had been in and out of the bathroom a couple of times. Feeling more uncomfortable and crampy, and just plain out of whack. The nurse suggested she run a bath and get into the tub to calm her down and sooth her a bit. So, she got into the tub and a few minutes later the nurse came over and said “this is Nubain it should make the pain a little better and relax you.”

About 30 seconds after she injected the needle into Sandy’s IV, her eyes rolled back and she started saying, “I’m really sleepy, I just want to go to bed.” This stuff was like heroin. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she was ready to just SLEEP!

Now, keep in mind, she’s in an oversized bathtub, naked, slippery and completely lethargic and going limp by the second. She started to slide down into the water, and I kept trying to reach down to hold her up somehow but, there really isn’t anything to hang on to, to hold her up.
So, I said to the nurse, I think we have to get her out of her because she’s going to pass out and I can’t hold her above the water.

About 30 minutes later the nurse and I got her out of the bathtub and moved her back to her bed.
Sandy was getting more and more uncomfortable and the baby’s heart rate was peaking and dropping a lot. So, they kept readjusting the monitor and changing Sandy’s position to try to get a better reading, which again, made Sandy even more uncomfortable.

Then all of a sudden, around 4:30-5 a.m. the lights seemed to come on completely, there were about six nurses in the room and one of the nurses was yelling into a room phone saying “I need you to tell Dr. Ritcher to get down here now, we really need him here right now.”

This kinda scared me because I didn’t know that anything had changed too much. I was more concerned with trying to keep Sandy calm and make sure she was comfortable.

Then once again, a nurse came into the room and did the “pull, rip, squirt, sit, lift, push, mmmhmm, mmmhmmm”, but this time, she added, talking to no one in particular “I can’t tell what that is, is that the scrotum, or is that a scar?”

A few minutes later, Dr. Ritcher came in and started bickering with the nurse that was in the room that basically demanded he come down here right now.

At the same time, another nurse was trying to get a solid heart rate on the baby, so, they were moving Sandy to her hands and knees to take some of the pressure off the baby, and the very second she got to her hands and knees Dr. Ritcher says “OK, I need you on your back to examine you!”

Sandy turned to look at me and mouthed “What the F***” to me. She began to move over to her back and Dr. Ritcher began yelling at the nurse.

“The baby’s heart rate has been variable for the last two days! I don’t know what the big deal is?” or something to that effect.

When Sandy finally go to her back, the doctor sat on the bed and began to examine her and again did the “mmmhmm, mmmhmm” and then stood up and said “Well, we’re going to have a baby! You’re 9 cm.”

And in an instant, there were new people in the room, old carts and tables were removed, new carts and tables were brought into the room.

Sandy then asked the question that probably every woman wants to ask, “Can I have my epidural now?”

And she got the response that they all fear.

“It’s too late for that now” the doctor said.

Sandy’s response, outloud. “What the FUCK!”

The nurses then moved into position and got Sandy prepared, started lifting legs and telling her to push. They gave me one of her legs to hold and I did everything I could to make her feel comfortable and coach her along.

The baby’s head began to crown pretty quickly, and the nurses kept telling Sandy to do long deep pushes. Then a quick breath and then long deep pushes again.

If her pushes were short and shallow the baby would rock back in and not make any progress. As it was the baby’s head didn’t seem to make much progress once it made it’s initial appearance.

However, the point of the head was clearly visible and the nurse said, “Do you want to feel the baby’s head?” Sandy looked at me and said “No, don’t look” but the nurse grabbed my hand and placed it on the top of the baby’s head. You could feel the small round head and I turned to look and you could see the hair, it was pretty freakin’ amazing.

We had asked that the baby be put on Sandy’s stomach right after it was born. And we also asked that the umbilical cord not be cut right away. And the doctor and nurse said, “sure, absolutely.”

After several minutes, the doctor sat down at the end of the table and I saw him pull out what seemed to be large needle, below table level so Sandy could not see it. And all of a sudden Sandy said “OUCH, what was that????”

The doctor said, “I’m just giving you a little novacaine.” And with that, Sandy started pushing harder than she had pushed all morning. She bared down and pushed and within two minutes the baby was out!

And at 6:11 am on Thursday, January 31st, 2008 the doctor said “IT’S A GIRL!” and I turned and looked at Sandy and she started to cry and said “Isabelle”.

However, the doctor did not put Isabelle on Sandy’s stomach like we had asked. He cut the cord right away and took her over to the baby cart. They put her on the table and started to work on her right away, which made me kind of nervous. Because the other thing I was noticing was, there was no crying. No, baby screaming, no noises other than doctors talking.

And for a few tense moments, there seemed to be no sound.

Then, “WHAAAA uh, WHAAAA, uh, WHAAA”.

There it was, my beautiful baby girl’s little voice.

What did happen during the birth though, was my baby girl pooped. The doctors were worried that she had inhaled some of the maconium and that it was possibly blocking her airway. That was part of the reason why she didn’t make any noise right away. So, they were going take her to the post-natal care unit and run a few tests on her and make sure that she was in perfect health.

They originally said they were probably going to keep her the entire day, which would have totally sucked… however, they told us less than 30 minutes later that she would be back down in about an hour. Which was amazing news.

Another funny and interesting side story, was after Sandy got up after she had the baby, the nurses helped her to the bathroom and I noticed that the mat on the bed and sheets had some blood on them. As soon as I saw the soiled linens, I took them off the bed and threw them in one of the hampers for soiled linens.

The reason I did this, was Sandy had been drilling into my head how gross and disgusting I will think she is during this entire process of child birth, which to be honest, is almost the exact opposite of how I came out thinking about her. The problem was, her perception would be the only thing that mattered. So, if she thought that I saw something that she thought I might think is disgusting, it would totally upset her. So, as soon as I saw the sheets like that I got rid of them so she would never see them and would never knew that I saw them. Make sense????

However, the nurses gave me shit about this and said “you know, we have people that do that?”
So, I was kind of embarrassed, but I had to tell them why I did it and got the “awww aren’t you so sweet” bullshit.

Soon after that, by 6:30 a.m. we were texting our family and letting them know that Isabelle Raine Beauregard was born this morning at 6:11 am and Baby, Mom and Daddy were all doing fine.

Within an hour we were moved to one of the post-natal rooms which are much smaller, but still nice, and Isabelle was brought down in a little baby bassinette and we got to hold her for the first time. Again, it was pretty freakin’ amazing.

The big mystery regarding the “LEEP” Scar and Sandy not dialating ended up being Isabelle’s head. After she was born we noticed a large red knot or bump on the side of her head. What we found out was that part of her head was blocking the opening of the cervix and getting squeezed when Sandy contracted, so it never felt like the cervix was softening and it sealed everything up, so her water never seemed to break. Pretty freakin’ weird, but pretty freakin’ amazing.

Sandy, by here account was feeling 100 times better than she had the previous two weeks. She had Isabelle completely natural, with no epidural and no drugs, other than the heroine-like nubain early on! And, she was walking around like nothing had happened. She was hopping onto the bed when the doctor wanted to examine her, with no real pain or discomfort at all. Even the doctor was shocked and prescribed her with some vicodin “just in case”. The only pain medication Sandy had after the child birth were a couple of Tylenol. She was again, pretty freakin’ amazing.

We had a few visitors on Thursday to come see the new baby and say congratulations.

We were in the hospital for one more full day, and on Friday we had more visitors and I also made a trip home to take a shower, bring home one of Isabelle’s hats and a blanket for Daisy to smell and get used to and to get the car seat to bring it back to take Isabelle home for the first time.

All in all, it was a pretty exciting amazing experience.

Here’s the video version if you want to check it out!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vO6H0A46jCo

POP Goes the Groin!

So, it's official... I'm old!

I was playing volleyball last night, and as I went to set a ball, my left groin went **POP!**

I literally felt it pop and I fell to the ground like a bag of rocks. It felt like my left nut shot out of my sack and bounced off the floor.

My stomach went queazy, I turned stark white and couldn't focus. I got up and walked off the court and sat on a chair for about 25 minutes motionless.

The guys I was playing volleyball with got me an icepack and I placed it on my sack and could barely breath. I have never felt pain like this before in my life. It didn't even hurt this bad when I tore cartiledge in my knee several years ago.

When the game was over, I walked across the gym and very gingerly sat down. I began to try to take off my shoes and could barely reach down to untie my shoes, which brought tears to my eyes, the pain was almost unbareable.

I left the gym, got into my truck and had to physically lift my left leg with my hands to get it into the truck, panting and sweating the entire time.

I made my way home, put more ice between my nuts and thigh and sat on the couch until midnight when I finally got up enough courage to walk up the stairs to go to bed.

I collapsed in bed and slept ok, struggling to move around or even lift my leg under the weight of the blankets, I stayed on my back most of the night.

When I woke up this morning, I tried to move my left leg off the bed and it almost fell to the floor by itself because I was unable to support it with any muscles. It sent a sharp excruciating burst of pain through my groin and into my stomach. Again I almost vomitted. I got the cold sweats and started seeing spots.

I made my way to my stairs trying to get to my bathroom as fast as I could because I thought I was going to be sick and had to hold onto the wall and I almost fell down my stairs.

So, that being said, I'm officially old. Doing the same things I did a few years ago, now cause me serious injury... great!

I'm going to see my doctor next week to see if I actually tore anything and if I may need surgery... but other than that... I feel just great. And when I cough or sneeze I can feel the pull all the way up in my abdomen like a knife in the gut.

The other fun part is if I even flex my left thigh muscle at all, it pretty much doubles me over in pain. So, i'm trying not to do that too much!!!!

Fun stuff!

How Can the Music Industry be losing money?

How can the Music Industry be Struggling?

The other day I was watching TV, flipping channels and there is a show (on Discovery I think) about Mick Jagger. They are following him around to all of the shows, special appearances and guest vocal appearances he is making for all these different artists.

Then he stops into Lenny Kravitz’s funky house in Miami. This place looks like it’s straight out of Barbarella. Lenny wrote the music, Mick wrote the Lyrics and they record this song in the Studio inside Lenny’s house called “God Gave Me Everything!”

I totally loved the song and was like, “I want that song!”

So, I picked up my laptop, logged onto iTunes and searched for the song and while the show was still on TV, I bought the song.

I have done this same thing at least ten times in the past month. I hear a song. I like the song. I don’t even have to write anything down, I just grab my computer, click, click, click and I purchase it.

When in history before now could you sit on your ass in your living room and buy a song without having to go anywhere to get it? I have one answer for you, NEVER!!!

The vehicle that is iTunes should be giving the music industry such a push that they should be overwhelmed with the sales of music. But, their old fashioned view of the “record” instead of the digital file and sound is holding them back.

If they would embrace this format and go with it, they would be making money hand over fist. Think of what they are saving… less money for packaging (due to smaller quantities of physical merchandise), less money for distribution, less money for “shelf space” (probably included in distribution), and instant purchase availability 24/7. When in history was there a record store that was open all day and all night everyday in every country in the world? Again, one answer for you, NEVER!!!

All of this music is more accessible to more people at one time than ever! And to be honest, I am listening to more music now than I did in junior high which is, if you watch TRL on MTV, the major market for music.

Come on “record” industry, wake-up! Your name change is long overdue. Not to mention your state-of-mind.