Ten Fingers and Ten Toes

January 19th, 1988

Our car skated to a stop in the hospital parking lot with that unmistakable crunch of snow under the tires. I could finally start breathing again. It has been exactly one hour and thirty two minutes since LuAnne's water broke, and with twelve inches of snow already on the ground and a full blown blizzard raging down on us, I thought we would never make it.

In my haste to park the car I forgot to drop LuAnne off at the front door. Although, now that I think about it, it may have been on purpose. I didn't want to leave her side for fear she would walk into the hospital while I was parking the car and have the baby without me. I have been dying for nine months to see this baby boy or girl and I was not going to miss the chance to be the first one, even before LuAnne, to see that this little baby had ten fingers and ten toes. I know that sounds silly and cliché, but that was all I could think about right now.

I helped LuAnne trudge through the knee deep snow as we approached the hospital's main entrance. I have only had bad experiences associated with hospitals, so that initial olfactory blast of unmistakable hospital disinfectant as we stepped inside made my stomach bottom out. I can on occasion be very superstitious, so I would not allow myself to analyze the situation for similarities between my past bad experiences and this one for fear of making “it” come true. I had to get my mind on the positive instead of the negative, and the best way to do that was to get LuAnne into a delivery room as quickly as possible.

We walked to the front desk stomping snow off our boots as we went. There was nobody in sight. I began to panic and started yelling for someone to help us. LuAnne slugged me in the arm and said “knock it off—it's not an emergency. “ I ignored her and started running down the hall yelling for help. I could feel the blood rushing to my head as panic started to take over. If someone didn't show up soon I was going to bust. And then, just as I was about to spontaneously combust, a nurse showed up to see what all the yelling was about. She took one look at LuAnne and had her answer. I'm sure she has seen it a million times—a beyond pregnant mom to be with her nut case of a dad to be. The nurse calmed me down slightly while walking us to the elevator and then she gave us directions to the maternity ward. As we stepped into the elevator, I could feel the blood in my head starting to drain back into my body where it belonged.

The fifth floor elevator doors opened slowly, like the shutter in a camera, to reveal actual nurses and doctors, unlike the main lobby downstairs. The relief washed over me like a warm breeze. I didn't realize how nervous and tense I was for going on two hours now.

Near as I could tell, it was a combination of things: my elevated blood pressure from the nerve wracking ride through the snow to the hospital, that awful hospital smell and the ride up in the elevator. But, as I stepped through the elevator doors, doctors and nurses started circling as if on a carousel. As I stopped to compose myself, I saw the fifth floor rush up to greet me.

It was quiet. My eyes blinked open, but it was too bright to keep them open so I closed them tight. It occurred to me that I didn't know where I was—was I dreaming? It was then that I became painfully aware of my throbbing head. As the pain swept over me, so did the realization of what happened—I had fainted! Now everything came flooding back to me. Where I was, why I was here and most importantly, where I should be. I needed to be with LuAnne to have our baby. I struggled to a sitting position as a nurse came over to try and make me lie down again. I asked the nurse where my wife was and if my baby had been born yet. She must have realized that if I was this coherent, I must be okay. So she walked me next door to birthing room E where I found LuAnne doing her breathing exercises that we practiced in Lamaze class. Thank God—she didn't have the baby without me.

LuAnne asked “hoof, hoof are hoof you hoof, hooo okay? Before I could answer, a nurse rushed in with a cart full of, I guess, birthing instruments. She looked at me and said “it's showtime, are you ready?” I'm sure I was the joke du jour going around the maternity ward so I said “yeah, I'm ready, I've got the fainting out of the way already.”

Now the pace really started to pick up in birthing room E. Everybody was doing that power walk kind a thing. You know, where you're running but you try to make it look like a walk. Anyway, I was looking for LuAnne's doctor but she was no where to be found. I didn't want to interrupt LuAnne, she had enough on her mind so I asked one of the nurses. She told me doctor Liesch was at another hospital and wouldn't be here in time because of the snow. “Besides” she said, “this baby's coming now!”

I looked over at LuAnne and they were getting her ready. Now that it was time, I wasn't so anxious for this baby to come. I needed more time. I could feel that warm wave start to come over me again. I decided it was time for mind over matter and told myself I was not going to let it get me this time. I had to see if that baby had ten fingers and ten toes.

Before I could tell if my mind over matter plan was working, one of the nurses handed me a gown and said “put this on, you've got work to do.” I slipped the surgical gown on and fell into place next to LuAnne. “She's crowning” I heard someone say. Suddenly, everything felt like slow motion. The nurses and doctor had projected a calm that seemed to transfer to me—I was ready.

I could see the baby's head now. Slowly, little by little the face appeared. But, before I could get a good look at the face, the shoulders literally popped out like a cork from a champagne bottle. Thats when I saw them—1,2,3,4,5 1,2,3,4,5—ten fingers! The Doctor eased the baby out the rest of the way and I saw the other half of the set. I had to be sure so I counted them twice—ten toes! Somebody said “it's a girl.” I was so happy about the fingers and toes, I didn't even notice if it was a boy or a girl. I stood there stunned by it all, until I noticed the doctor staring at me. He said “anytime” while pointing to the scissors in my hand. I started to cut the umbilical cord and then pulled away in horror. The doctor looked at me and said “it's tougher than you think—just go for it.” I closed my eyes and sawed my way with little strokes until I was through. I opened my eyes and they had my baby girl on a table clearing out her mouth and nose with one of those blue, mini basters. Then I heard the most glorious sound in the world. I wouldn't think so three weeks from now, but at this moment, that baby crying sounded better than any symphony I have ever heard.

They placed the baby on LuAnne's chest and I joined my new family. That warm feeling started to come over me again, but this was different—this wasn't fainting warmth, this was love.

The doctor told us that the baby was perfectly healthy, no problems. I wanted to tell him that I knew that as soon as I counted ten fingers and ten toes. But he paid all that money for medical school, why ruin it for him.

Happy 20th Jessica!