FATHERHOOD by John V. Haggerty

Tomorrow's post is about my dad.
It's a doozy.

I wanted to share this written piece my dad wrote about me and my birth.  I cherish having it.
I miss you daddy.

FATHERHOOD

by

John V. Haggerty

Chills crept down my spine. My mouth dropped to the floor. If I wore dentures, they would have fallen out! At that moment, I could have heard a pin drop. The smell of medicine filled the white, sterile room. Finally, it was confirmed: Kate was pregnant. I, as crazy as it sounded, would be joining the ranks of fatherhood. My head in the clouds and feeling a bit dazed, I left the hospital excited, and yet, bewildered.

Kate and I met through a mutual friend. Immediately we became good friends. One thing led to another, and I found myself spending my nights at her apartment. We had no commitment; we were friends, not lovers.

After Kate became pregnant, we decided not to marry. Neither of us felt marriage would make us better parents, but it possibly would make us enemies. We knew living together would be disastrous. Our families were not thrilled with our decision, but they respected our wishes.

Suddenly there were monthly doctor appointments, Lamaze classes, breathing exercises, all preparation for childbirth. Boy or girl, it didn't matter to me. Although deep in my soul, I knew we would have a girl. My only concern was that this child have my last name. Kate seemed delighted that I felt strongly about this.

Life seemed to be treating me well. I never gave children much thought, but now I was going to be a father. A father to one of those screaming rug rats that always irritated me in the grocery store. I could hardly believe it. 

Every morning I woke thinking, "I'm going to be a daddy." Then I would become nauseated! Soon it became difficult to sleep on my back. Eventually, I realized I was experiencing sympathy paints. At times, I felt more pregnant than Kate! I was becoming terribly frustrated!

The months passed slowly, but the ninth month finally arrived. I began calling Kate two, maybe three times a day. On the morning of June 25, I began to dial Kate's number. I remember the sun shining bright that morning with the sound of birds chirping outside my window. Our conversation had become pretty routine: "How are you? How do you feel? Has the baby been moving? You'll call me if anything happens? You promise?" Only this morning she interrupted me: "Wait a minute, John!" She was gone approximately five minutes, but it seemed like a lifetime. "I think my water broke"she replied. I immediately hung up the phone, looked in the mirror and screamed, "OH SHIT!"

Ten minutes later I stumbled into Kate's apartment. To my amazement, Kate sat soaking the in tub taking a bubble bath! "Oh my God! What the hell are you doing?" I cried. "Relax. We have plenty of time, " she replied calmly. "Oh my God! You are going to have that kid in the tub!" I explained. Panic and fear filled my being. Then she had to do her hair and pack her suitcase, I was splitting at the seams while Kate appeared calm, cool, and relaxed. Finally she was ready to go at this point, I was ready for a Valium.

We got into my car, I turned the key, and it wouldn't start! "OH SHIT! Now what?" I exclaimed. We quickly raced to her car. For some ungodly reason, I couldn't get the stick shift in gear! By now, I was starting to really having problems coping. Kate ended up driving to the hospital, with me sitting nervously, and slightly embarrassed in the passenger seat. On the way to the hospital, I kept asking myself, "How did I ever get myself into this mess?"

I started feeling better once we arrived at the hospital. Next was getting her admitted and dealing with all of the paperwork. By this time, Kate had started labor. She was having posterior labor, which meant the baby was pressed against her colon. I could see the pain in her face as she rolled side to side uncomfortably. I felt totally helpless; there was not a damn thing I could do.

Kate remained in labor for sixteen hours, eight of those hours were hard labor. Doctors and nurses were constantly in and out of the room, checking for the baby to come through the birth canal. I.V.'s dripped continuously. I left the room once for ten minutes to smoke a cigarette, but I just could not stay away. I held her hand, trying to remember everything we had learned in lamaze class. I was feeling scared, so scared, and so helpless. Yet I knew it was my turn to appear calm, cool, and collected.

Finally, the doctor decided to do a C-section. The baby was having problems coming through the birth canal. Soon a nurse came in to prep kate for surgery. One of the nurses came and sat with me, I guess to comfort me. I can't seem to remember what she said, but she surely made me feel better. I would be allowed to observe the surgery-- the birth of our child.  Finally it was going to happen. By this time I was too tired to be tired, too numb to be numb. I prayed that morning, "Please God, let everything be OK. Please God! Please God!"

Suddenly I found myself sitting on a cold stool with Kate stretched beside me on an operating table, barely awake. She had been put under anesthesia because she had been in too much pain for the spinal bock to work.  I can't remember what she mumbled or even what I said. The room seemed so sterile, so cold. The smell of medicine file my nostrils. Chills started creeping down my spine, just like that day nine months ago.

I could see form the overhead mirror the doctor cutting into Kate's abdomen. As they pulled back the flap, I shuddered and felt a little queasy. Finally the doctor pulled out this bloody little child from Kate's stomach. Next a quick slap, like the sound of a whip, followed by a loud baby's cry. The jingle of instruments were heard as the umbilical cord was clipped; then the splashing of water as they bathed the child in sterile water.  "Mr. Haggerty, would you like to hold your new daughter?" Tears in my eyes, I couldn't speak.  I couldn't speak. I moved clumsily toward the nurse. Instruments went flying in the air and bouncing to the floor as I stumbled against a tray of scissors, clamps, and knives. The doctors and nurses laughed hysterically, I felt rather foolish.

I finally go to hold my daughter for the first time. I'd never felt such joy and happiness. I can't express in words how I felt at this moments. I was taken to the nursery where I sat on an old wooden rocker holding this tiny child. She was the most beautiful child I'd ever seen. I thought, "God had outdone himself, with my help!" Red curly hair, two arms, two legs, all parts intact. I'd never seen such a perfect child.

Ashlee Eva Alexa Haggerty was born on June 26, 1981, at 5:45 A.m. Mother did fine. Amazingly, the father survived childbirth without too much trouble, but only God knows why!