I remember the day back in March when I sat down to write my first entry to this blog after learning Kayla was pregnant, that memory of writing from the couch in our living room to document the events leading up to a new life.
Tonight I’m doing something similar, but this time from a hospital room with the newest member of our family, Kate.
She’s the love of our lives, and this is the story of the day she was born.
This applies to all of our friends and family members, but specifically to those who may be inclined to visit Kayla and I in the hospital after B.K. comes. Early on in the process we set out to make a birth plan. This plan contains everything we want and expect at the hospital, from an epidural to the light level and music played during the delivery.
One aspect of this concerns you, the visitors. How to handle company at the hospital and thereafter can be awkward.
I mean, this post started with me professing our love for you, yet now we’re trying to figure out a subtle way to tell you to leave.
Rather than face the awkward conversation of explaining our desires in person, we decided to share our thoughts on the subject here. You know, like cowards.
Our most recent doctor visit was the week of Halloween. Maybe B.K. thought she would be funny and pull a trick, or maybe it was just bad timing. Either way, we were thrown for a curve ball when the doctor listened to her heart.
He looked concerned and asked if she’d been moving much. The heartbeat was a tad slow. Not absent, just not up to full speed.
We were assured it was nothing to worry about, that it’s common for their hearts to slow a bit as they grow. Nevertheless, a machine was brought into the room to track her heartbeat for 20 minutes.