Toby

Well, everyone, I'm back to the blog, 2 weeks after promising that concert review. I still intend to write about that, but not tonight. I won't have time, as diaper duty is mine. That's right, the little dude came right on time. Due 12-29-05, he was born 12-28-05 at 10:28pm. Can't get much more on time than that. There are pictures below, but I will try to tell the story in some sort of succinct manner and give some captions to the photos as we go.

Robyn and I were up around 10:30 in the morning on Tuesday the 27th and had a full day of assorted things on the schedule, including our 40 week checkup at the midwives' office and a double date to the Festival of Lights with Jeff Warnock and fiance Nichole. The midwife checked Robyn out and predicted that labor could begin very soon (and also predicted a 7-and-a-half pound baby). We were excited that things were progressing, then headed home to meet up for the Lights. Traffic was ridiculous, and we decided to give up and try again another night. We ended up eating kettle corn and Graeter's and playing Taboo for a couple hours. Good times.

At 2:10am, we were still awake... and Robyn's water broke. All over the place. Warm wetness everywhere. There was no warning, as she was yet to have a single contraction. I called the midwife. Midwife said "if there are still no contractions in 6 hours, call again."

Sometime around 3:30am, Robyn felt her first contraction. As a coach, it's my job to time these things... they're supposed to start out 15-20 minutes apart. When they get to be 5 minutes apart, it's time to start heading for the hospital. When they get to be 2 minutes apart, you dang well better be IN the hospital. The 2nd contraction was 4-and-a-half minutes later. Surely, I thought, these must not be the real deal because they're too close together. Then the 3rd one came 3-and-a-half minutes after the 2nd. No way. Impossible. Sure enough, then came the barrage of contraction after contraction, 90 seconds apart. So, over a 30-minute time period, she went from no contractions to consistent contractions 90 seconds apart. I called the midwife, called Robyn's mom and we headed for the hospital.

Robyn is, without question, my hero. She labored and delivered so well. Her plan was to go natural, unmedicated, and she did just that. It did not surprise me in the least that she would follow through on her plan to go natural. What did surprise us was that she gave birth to a NINE-POUND-ELEVEN-OUNCE kid (as opposed to the much more normal-sized baby the midwife predicted). He's healthy, we're home, and I have changed two poopy diapers and one puke-covered outfit since I began typing this post several hours ago. Welcome to my new life.

I will write more about Robyn and her delivery and her, gasp... complications, later. No offense to Andrew Peterson or his fellow musicians, because they were great, but Robyn's story is far more important than that concert review. On to the pictures...

This is a family-friendly blog, so I will not show the unit. Immediately following delivery, Robyn was more beautiful than ever. Does this look like a woman who 15 minutes earlier birthed an almost 10 pound baby and was being operated on while this photo was taken? I think not...
First family picture (other than the self-portrait I took of the 3 of us which is really bad)...
I've already told him about Jesus and the sin nature and all that stuff... he proved my sin nature explanation true by uttering his first words: "One milll-ee-on dollars."
Eyes? Yeah, he gots 2 of 'em. And a tongue too...
This may be my favorite... a peaceful moment with the lights out... mother and child... daddy with a camera...
The one and only Aunt Nancy stopped by and took some pics of me bonding with my son. (And let me tell you, I needed some Bond myself after a crazy 36 hour wake time. But I digress.)
I didn't realize how much I was going to love just holding my boy. I couldn't have predicted how amazing it feels to have his cheek and breath on my neck.
On the morning of the 30th, we were given the go-ahead to head for home. Robyn had healed sufficiently to be released, and Toby was doing great. Robyn was very excited at the thought of taking her baby home to her nest. I was very excited at the thought of never having to sleep on that horrific vinyl couch/chair again. I mean, I know she's the one who labored for a full day and birthed a 6-week-old baby, but can't daddy the coach get something with a little more cushion??? Again, I digress...
We arrived home around 2:30 in the afternoon on the 30th. The cats were happy to see us and overwhelmed by all the hormones and the new baby scents. Below is an action shot of The Dog having a stroke.

Hope you enjoy the pics... I'll write more... Toby's finally asleep, and I'm hoping me and mommy can catch a ZZZ or 2 before the hoss requires more milk... goodnight for now...