Sofia's Arrival

Ben's version:

Oh fuck.

Those were the words that woke me up at 2:55 am on August the 14, 2013. Most of you are aware that Gina is a peculiarly poor sleeper and under normal circumstances she has to work pretty hard to bring me to a fully conscious state. These were not normal circumstances. Within seconds of hearing the phrase I was out of bed, trying to determine the exact cause of the early morning profanity. Although the trail of fluid I happened to step in as I left the bedroom was an excellent clue, playing detective proved unnecessary when Gina yelled from our bathroom that her water had broken. Strangely, surprisingly, things immediately calmed down immediately after that. 

Nothing else happened. Gina was leaking; that's it. The fluid was clear and unadorned, no accompanying contractions, pain, screaming, or other panic inducing elements immediately followed my wake up. Frankly we were puzzled. Hollywood embellishes for the sake of entertainment. We discussed this in earnest, almost feeling cheated, lied to, led on. After several minutes Gina suggested we might as well call our hospital, which I did. They told us to come to the hospital immediately. Would that really be necessary Frau Nurse, we wondered. A midnight drive through the streets of Zurich seemed like such a hassle when all we were dealing with was a little leakage. Politely but firmly the calm voice on the other end of the line told us no, that we should come as soon as possible. Thankfully we listened. We ordered a taxi and within minutes one appeared, the driver clearly worried about preserving the cleanliness of his seats as we boarded. "Triemlispital bitte." The words said, we were off.

After arriving at the hospital, everything was still calm, everyone totally unaware of what was to come. Initial examinations were done, discussion revolved around whether to hold off contractions or to have the operation earlier than scheduled. And then our midwife checked to see if Gina was dilating. Immediately the language switched from English to German, voices were raised, people began to move very quickly, and lots of people in various colors made their appearances. We were told the baby was pushing down on the umbilical cord, reducing her supply of oxygen and endangering her life. We were told an immediate, emergency C-section had to be done, but that there was still time to insert a spinal so that Gina and I, both alert and in a relatively sane state of mind could be present for the birth of our daughter. Within minutes Gina was rolled out of the examination room and I was thrown a pair of scrubs and told to wait a few minutes until a nurse came to get me. Several minutes later- although it felt like hours- a clearly agitated junior doctor ran into the room and in broken English stated that "we had to intubate her."And left.

The next ten minutes or so were frightening, truly and horribly frightening. Helplessness is an awful feeling and sitting in that room with only my own horrible fear for company, that is what I was. If I wanted to I could probably do a fair job sharing the experience but I don't feel like it; it's not important. The outcome is however.

As I write this my wife is sitting next to me reading Sippy Cups Are not for Chardonnay. My infant, who only yesterday was unable to breath without assistance now has the most powerful lungs in the neonatal ward. Things worked out for us in the early morning of August 14, 2013. For that I am, and will always be, thankful.

Gina's version:

To be continued. Gone for a late-night Sofie-visit, will add my version here. In the meantime, here are some pictures! Yay!

So no other babies in the neo-natal center take her spot!

Sofie with Daddy!

Sofie's first day blues!

Mommy checking out the goods.

This is one happy Dad!

Check out what I made!

That's right, she's with me.

Why does Mom keep getting so close to me? Some people have no sense of personal space!