World, Meet My Son

My son has arrived! He weighed 8 pounds, 10 ounces, and was 22 inches long. His name is Tobias Alexander (when I'm mad at him), but most of the time we just call him Toby.

If I could use one word to sum up what I witnessed as my wife labored and gave birth, it would be strength. I saw my wife do the miraculous. I saw her push past limits I never knew she had. I saw two midwives watch stunned at not only the long, hard labor she endured, but the steadfast, resilient, determined, way she handled it with no meds, no hospitals, and after 24 hours of no sleep.

Several times the midwives made remarks like, "Your pain threshold is unbelievable," "You haven't complained once," and "I wish more women handled labor like this."

They were in awe. I was in awe. I've never been more honored to call myself her husband than I am today.

My favorite moment.

Toby was doing fine until his head emerged. His right hand was trapped behind his head by his umbilical cord that was also wrapped around his neck. There were a few moments of worry as the midwives worked to get him free of his little tangled mess.

When he finally came free of the birth canal, the midwives tried to get him to breathe, but he wouldn’t make any noise. They cleared his nose and mouth of fluid, but he still wouldn’t suck in air. 

Dani started praying out loud, “Dear Jesus, help Toby breathe.” The midwives said, “Talk to your baby. Let him hear your voice.” “Breath, Toby,” Dani said. “Come on, Toby.”

That’s when I leaned down real close to him and said, “Hey Toby. This is your daddy. You need to breathe buddy.”

And at the sound of my voice he inclined his head to me and squeaked for the first time.