Let me think… when Anna was born. Jennifer had concluded her last day of work on Friday, without much fanfare. She was looking forward to a few weeks off to tie up loose ends around the house, easing her way through the final weeks of pregnancy and into motherhood. The following morning, we were on our way to a parenting class (_Sleep Strategies_, if I remember right) when Jen felt so uncomfortable on the drive down, that she had me turn around and go home because there was no way she was going to be able to bear sitting on folding chairs all morning.

Back home, she laid down and relaxed and was soon feeling better. That evening, we decided to see a Padres game. A. J. Burnett was pitching for the Florida Marlins, and the Padres lost 0-3. How do I remember this detail, more than three years later, you ask? Because Jennifer was again feeling uncomfortable, and wanted to leave around the sixth inning, but Burnett was throwing a no-hitter. With the sensitivity and caring that only a proud father-to-be can muster, I told Jen, “Honey, we can have other children, but when are we ever going to see a NO-HITTER?” Burnett finished the game with no hits, seven strikeouts, and nine walks. We stayed.

The next morning, Jennifer went swimming and had continued bouts of discomfort during the day. Around dinner time, she asked me to put together a bag for the hospital. I grudgingly began to oblige, and quickly lost interest. In my defense, let me say that Jennifer’s list of things to bring to the hospital was a proper superset of every list of things to bring to the hospital ever published. It would have been easier to bring the hospital to us.

It was after ten o’clock when Jennifer, who was resting on [piece of furniture will remain anonymous, since many of you have since used it] announced that her water had broke. Actually, “announced” is the wrong word, as it neither indicates the urgency with which she made her declaration, nor evokes the sheer panic with which I reacted. The next few minutes I remember as being something of a blur, as I realized how little of the uber-list I had packed. I rushed around the house stuffing everything in sight into a duffel bag: pillows, towels, slippers, house plants. Finally, Jen said it was time to go, and I took the bag, the list, and mama-to-be down to the hospital. On the way, we called our good friends J. and D., who went to our house and played scavenger hunt with the copy we had left of the uber-list, and Jennifer’s mom, who seemed pretty nonplussed–it was 2am her time, and she expected we were only at the beginning of several hours of labor.

I realize now that Jennifer’s mom had a very different perspective on labor, having been through it twice, than did we. I had already been instructed, on a previous hospital trip, on the proper procedures for dropping off, parking, checking in, and the progression through different areas of the hospital at different stages of labor and delivery. In practice what happened was more like an episode of COPS, when a suspect on the run jumps out of a moving vehicle, hits the ground running, and flees cross-country while ducking gunfire. I may be wrong about the gunfire, but it was more than three years ago, so my memory may be spotty.

In triage, we mostly waited around, occasionally toting our duffel bag and pillows from place to place, until a nurse brought a portable ultrasound cart. The ultrasound determined that… well, I don’t remember that it determined anything, but I remember that it was there. Eventually we were moved to the labor and delivery room, where we waited around some more, while Jennifer was being fitted with all sorts of instrumentation, until the OBGYN finally showed up. She used another portable ultrasound to determine what Jen had known for weeks, which was that the baby was breech. Apparently, having a baby who is breech after the water breaks is the magic combination for a c-section. It was around this time that J. and D. showed up with the results of the uber-list scavenger hunt, just in time for Jennifer and I to be prepped for surgery. My surgery prep mainly consisted of reading and signing pages of liability forms, until Jennifer reminded me that I was supposed to be coaching her labor, which had reached the point that it needed some coaching right now. I multitasked by reading the forms to Jennifer while simultaneously coaching her breathing. I think it went something like, “the undersigned party of the first part (breathe in) hereby relinquishes all rights (breath out) of litigation with respect to the (breath out) party of the second part…”

After it was decided that a c-section was in order, things began to happen very quickly. Jennifer was moved to a wheelchair, then out of the room. I was still signing papers, and gathering up our stuff. The doctor and nurse were moving around with purpose. I went down the hall, and had only a few seconds to talk to Jen before she went in to be prepared for the surgery and I went to a different area to put on scrubs. Jennifer was shaking. She was being wheeled down the hall and was shaking so hard I don’t think she could have a held a glass of water if she wanted to. I could see she was scared, and she was cold, and things were not happening the way she expected. I took her chilly hand and held it in mine. “Everything is going to be okay.” I said it, but I was as uncertain as she was.

By the time I was dressed and allowed into the operating room, Jennifer was laid down on a table with a curtain separating her head from the rest of her body. I sat down to talk to her head. We talked for a little bit and she seemed in much better spirits. She couldn’t feel anything that was going on. “Have they started yet? It’s ok if you look.” she asked. I peered over the curtain. The doctor had opened the incision and was installing some very large stainless steel spreaders to keep it open, and using and unsettling amount of force to do it. “Oh yeah, they’ve started.”

Jennifer encouraged me to keep looking. I could see where the doctor cut into the uterus; there was a little spash of fluid, then almost immediately, two little feet came poking out, making little alternating kicks. The doctor grabbed the feet and quickly pulled Anna out, holding her upside down as the cord was clamped and cut. As Anna was handed to a nurse, still upside down, her little baby hand reached out and grasped a tube that was hanging next to the table where Jennifer lay. Comically, the nurse kept walking until she realized Anna was putting up some resistance, then turned around and pried her little hand off the tube.

I remembered that I had my camera with me, and snapped a picture of Anna being cleaned up. In a few moments, the nurse brought her over to Jen, who gently touched and stroked her face. The nurse handed Anna to me, then reached for my camera and asked if she could take a picture of the three of us.

“Just point and shoot, right?”

…but will write down anyway.

I’m starting this category to play catch-up with some of the memories I have that happened before the blog, somewhat in an effort to share, and somewhat in an effort to preserve the clarity of the memory before it fades.

Things I hope to put into this category later:

• Anna’s birth
• The sleep-deprivation-hell that was the first four months
• Anna’s first joke
• other stuff I can’t currently remember, but somehow qualifies as stuff I’ll never forget.

I haven’t posted much lately, but it’s not for lack of stuff going on. It’s mostly too much stuff going on. Let’s see, in the past few weeks,

• Anna’s behavior has been much improved. (more on that later)
• I had a “professional” portrait-shooting gig, and I have another studio-type event coming up.
• My new camera has shipped.
• Work has been very busy.
• We’ve had a lot of social events.
• I’ve been riding my bike to work more than usual.

Probably a bunch of other stuff has happened too, but I can’t remember what that might be.

Well, no, not this post, but I have made a category for all the other really good posts for people who are new to the site, or just want to skip over the pages and pages of blather that is our blog.

I took this morning off from work in order to drive Anna to the posh Sorrento Valley offices of Dr. Howard Dixon, which was recommended to me as the best pediatric dentist ever. The practice consists entirely of pediatric dentists, and the office lobby gives good indication. No fewer than six PlayStations and one Duplo-block play area are available for patient use. The staff is cheerful and child-friendly, and Anna, who is quite shy around new people, was fairly comfortable with each new person she met.

After filling out some paperwork, D. led us back to an exam room. She spoke with Anna in a very friendly manner, and clearly knew how to establish rapport with a child. She looked in Anna’s mouth a little, and demonstrated how the chair goes up and down so that she wouldn’t be startled by it later. She took Anna’s picture, and gave her a pack of stick-on earrings for having such a lovely smile. We read and waited for Dr. Dixon.

When Dr. Dixon finally showed up, he exhibited a similar friendly manner and counted and examined Anna’s teeth with a mirror and metal probe. Anna cooperated perfectly. When Dr. Dixon arrived at the tooth which I had astutely identified as having a huge hole, he casually scraped out a small black chunk, which he wiped on the back of his latex glove and kept on counting and examining, after which he asked, “Now where was this hole you were talking about?”

The feeling of relief that I would not be spending my nights comforting a toddler with an aching tooth outweighed the embarrassment of pointing out the “cavity” which now infected his glove. Anna’s teeth are in excellent condition, with the caveat that she has a small chip on one of her front teeth, which we knew about, and also her bite has some condition by which her upper teeth completely cover her lower teeth. Dr. Dixon indicated this would have “orthodontic implications,” which I think is dentist-speak for “there is a second mortgage in your future.”

I was also relieved that the cost of the visit was only $59, which was much less than I was expecting, considering that we currently do not have dental insurance for Anna. For that kind of peace of mind, $59 and some pride is a bargain.

I was just about to write “area cyst found in area knee,” but it’s getting to the point that it’s no longer funny to me, and I’m more easily amused than… anybody.

The doctor’s office finally called me back about my MRI, and it shows that there’s a cyst in there filled with fluid, probably the result of a previous injury. In the past when I’ve played volleyball, I’ve hit the deck pretty hard a few times trying to save a play, so I’m really not surprised. I have an appointment for next month to talk to a knee specialist about what it is and what I should do about it, but since the MRI, it’s been feeling a lot better. Hopefully it’s something that’s safe to ignore unless it becomes a problem again.

Today, I played some very excellent volleyball–I actually felt I had all seven skills working: serving, passing, setting, hitting, blocking, digging, and talking smack. Now if I can only carry over some of that Tuesday goodness into my Thursday league.

Tomorrow, I’m taking Anna to the dentist; she actually seems to be looking forward to it, I think because of a Caillou video she saw. Although we brush and floss her teeth every day, she has a visible cavity on one of her teeth. A week or so ago, I saw it and thought it was a speck of food, but when I got a toothpick and started poking at it, I realized it’s actually a hole. I’m glad she hasn’t yet complained of any pain, and I really want to get it taken care of before it becomes a problem. She’s a bad enough sleeper as it is, I can’t imagine what she’d be like with a toothache.

Actually that’s not quite the way it happened. For the last week, Jen’s longtime friend M. has been visiting us with her son A. and her brand new husband T. M. has bad travel karma. The last time she traveled (which was also the first time she traveled since high school), there was plane trouble on the way out, and the whole week she was here was the worst week of rain we’ve had here in the ten years we’ve lived here.

For this trip, there was plane trouble on the way out, her son got seriously sick on the third day of the trip, and the plane on the way out was delayed four hours. I don’t think she’s coming back.