The Birth

If you didn’t catch my previous blog about our scary experience with labor, you will want to check that out (here) before you read this one.

It was the early hours of July 7, 2014.  The nurses called me into the operating room.  Amy and I had always hoped to have our baby (babies in this case) delivered naturally, and by naturally I mean without surgery.  As we got closer to the delivery date and both babies remained breeched, that wasn’t going to be an option for us.  A breeched baby is in the womb head up, but the head needs to be down for the safest delivery.  Rather than entering a delivery room, I was joining Amy in an operating room for a c-section.  We were nervous about the idea of a c-section at first, but through conversations with those who had experienced it, we felt comfortable.  We knew it was the safest option for our babies in this particular situation. 

I walked into a cold, white, sterile room with the harsh glow of fluorescent lights.  I saw Amy on the operating table with her belly sticking up ready to go.  I tried to ignore the operating tools lying on the table next to her, and their various purposes.  Amy’s doctor had several nurses in the room with us, some who were just there to study the operation.  Amy was awake, but paralyzed from the medicine.  They sat me up by her head behind a sheet to block the view.  Amy had them raise it even higher before I came into the room, she wanted to make sure I didn’t see a drop of blood.  I tried to convince everyone for weeks that I would be fine, but I was more nervous than I wanted to let off. 

We were both filled with overwhelming emotions, and still had the last couple hours weighing on us.  I had so much going on in my mind, it is difficult to remember the smaller details of what happened.  I don’t remember what Amy and I talked about, I just wanted to make sure she was ok.  The doctor was operating on Amy, and I was doing my best to ignore all the sounds and sights.  I didn’t want to be one of those fathers who passed out.  Across the room was a supply cabinet with glass doors, and I briefly saw the operation happening in the reflection.  I quickly turned my head back towards Amy and tried to forget what I saw.  I took some deep breaths and focused on keeping my head clear.

I don’t remember what the doctor said, I just remember that I knew she was out.  Every second slowly ticked until we finally heard her cry.  Hazel Lynn Bowman was born July 7, 2014 at 3:01am.  She weighted 4 lbs 13 oz.  After the doctors cut the cord, they held her up over the sheet and we saw her for the first time.  It only took three minutes to pass before we met our son, Donovan Eric Bowman, at 5 lbs 9 oz. The feeling is unexplainable.  I was full of exhaustion, joy, and relief.  I wish I was skilled enough in writing to convey just how I really felt, but I don’t have the ability.  Just a few hours earlier I had believed they were gone, and now they were here and healthy.   

Amy was being sewn up as the babies were being cared for, weighed, and measured.  Both were doing well despite their small size.  I held Hazel first.  We smiled, we took pictures, and admired our baby girl.  Donovan needed assistance breathing for a few minutes, but was soon in my arms.  I was holding both my babies for the first time, and I couldn’t have been more proud.   

As we left for the recovery room, I ignored the blood soaked wrappings, pads, table, and floor. In the recovery room, Amy was able to hold the babies and do some skin to skin.  I was texting and sending pictures from both of our phones.  We each got to take turns holding each baby.  Amy’s family was anxiously waiting down the hall, and my mom was making the trip from Athens.

Before the twins were moved into the nursery, the nurses allowed Amy’s family to meet the babies on the way. 

Amy had to stay in the recovery room a little while longer before they moved her to our room.  I was proud to show them off!  Once they were in the nursery, and we were standing outside the glass windows, I wanted everyone to know I was the father of those twins!  I was disappointed that it was so early in the morning, I wanted more people to walk by and see them.  Amy’s mother, brother, sister, and me were filling our phones and cameras with photos of the babies getting their first baths, shots, diapers, and outfits.  Time ticked on, but I didn’t notice.  All that mattered were the two babies on the other side of the glass.  Amy was soon wheeled into the room right next to the nursery, and my mother arrived not long after that.  It must have been hard on Amy to lay in the next room while everyone was out in the hall admiring her newborns.  

Soon after, the twins were wheeled into the room with Amy.  Everyone took turns holding both Hazel and Donovan and getting their pictures taken. 

As the sun came up, my mother walked with me downstairs to get some breakfast.  It had officially been an all-nighter.  Once we made our way back to the room, everyone was ready to head home and get some sleep.  Amy and I were left alone with our new babies for the first time.  I imagine we would have been more terrified in the moment, if we weren’t so tired.  The doctor came and took them for newborn checkups, and Amy and I finally had the opportunity to sleep, even if it was just for an hour.  I fell down on the cold cushioned couch, and passed out.  I was a dad.