Eamonn's Arrival

So it all began on an unusually warm February evening. I (Sean) had come home from class that night, took a shower, and snacked on some popcorn with Nicole and Lisa while they finished watching a movie. After the film, Lisa went to bed, Nicole took a shower, while I cracked open a Kona Pale Ale and continued to digitize my music collection so that Nicole and I could take a comprehensive "Labor Play List" to the hospital when "the time" came. (If any of you know how obsessive/compulsive I am when it comes to my "Library," you can understand the state of panic I was already in... I mean, I was only up to the M's and it had already been weeks of digitizing). So, it was a normal evening.


Just then, at around 11:30 pm, after her shower and after trimming her nails, Nicole gets up to go to the restroom. On her way over she feels something odd and thinks that she has just "wet" herself. (I guess there is a small amount of urinary incontinence that comes with pregnancy...). In actuality, she had broken her water and I instantly began to go into "whirlwind mode." We had already packed a bag for the hospital stay (that day), but all the toiletries needed to be compiled, the car needed to be packed, emails needed to be sent (of which I had drafted that day) there were some specific albums that needed to be copied, AND I needed to brush my teeth to get rid of that beer-smell. So there I was, running around, brushing my teeth with my left hand, (try doing that. it's hard.), and trying to do everything else with my right hand. All those years of drum lessons finally paid-off. (Thanks mom and dad!)


So, Nicole is watching all of this, getting her last bowl of cereal in before the hospital cuts her off from food completely and at 2 am, we finally get in the "Mambo-Tango." (This is name of our Passat Wagon, named for the raft Che Guevara rode down the Amazon, which was named for the dance Che allegedly created through his inability to dance either the mambo or the tango... and I can't dance at all, so it was the perfect moniker.)


We roll up to the hospital at about 2:15 am, and wander around for a bit. No one was really there to guide us in a direction (which also meant that the parking lot was empty, allowing us to score an awesome parking space). Up to the second floor we went, and checked into 231, "the Manchester room" (named for a Mr. and Mrs. Manchester. I chuckled a bit, telling myself "At least it isn't the Chelsea room, or the Liverpool room...") which was were we met our first nurse, Lisa. We spent a few hours filling out paper work, and it was at around 4 am that we hit our first set-back: Pregnancy-Induced Hypertension.


Nicole wanted to do this thing, old school. No drugs, no hormones, no nothing... Just a whole lot of pushing, a whole lot of breathing, a whole lot of "sensation management," and a doctor to catch the baby. This "Pregnancy-Induced Hypertension" shot holes in the plan. Sometime after 4 am, Nicole got the Oxytosin (to speed things along), because the only way to remedy the PIH was to hurry up and have the kid. With the water having broken, that put the clock in motion, and the PIH just kicked it up a notch. The doctor wanted the baby out, not in 24 hours, but in 18... oh, and we had to make sure Nicole didn't start having any seizures. Total Partyin'!



With Oxytosin, you not only get the increased speed, but it increases the intensity of labor contractions. There was no time to ease into labor; Nicole had to hit the ground running, and that's what she did... and she was handling everything like a champ, until the drugs hit her so hard that she couldn't run with everything... She was super-bummed, as she was dilated about 3 cm and she already wanted to opt for the epidural. In the end, both of us realized that not all drugs are bad, m'kay, and it was with the help of this epidural that Nicole actually got to enjoy more of the child-bearing process. She was relaxed, calm, and everything progressed nicely.



Shortly before the hospital turned my beloved into a chemistry-set, I got on the phone and woke some people up. Grandma Lisa was staying with us, so she already knew the goings-on, but I had to get the news to Grandpa Jerry and 'Lita Maria, as well as to Bubbe and Papa Taugher. Jerry put the word out, and the Castillos' showed up, en masse. Grandma Julie, Jerry and Maria were the first to arrive, at around 8:30 am. Later in the day, Aunt Tammy & Uncle Joseph, Jennifer, Melinda & Ernie with their two sons, Joshua and Ethan, AND Auntie Lisa with her younger two, Julia and Jacob, all made their way down from the Greater Los Angeles area. I was told that this happens, but I never really believed it until I saw it with my own eyes. It was awesome. Castillos = Responsive. (They would make really great volunteer firemen!)



The antithesis of responsive? My father. I called my folks up to give them the news: February 5th was going to be the day of their newest grandchild's birthday!! My mom was already making her way to school for some serious administrator's meeting, but promised to keep her phone on, and would slip out as soon as she could. (Really, she was on the verge of pooping flowers, she was so excited.) My father, on the other hand... well, he swore that the baby was not going to be born before he got out of class. (He still teaches part-time even though the old man retired 7 years ago. He says it helps him get out of having to do so many chores for my mother. I think it gives him a captive audience for all of his stories.) Now, I love my father to death, but sometimes his level-headedness and fierce ability to rationalize make him seem like an apathetic, cold, stern man. He is anything but... What he really is, is a man with the heart ten-times the size of Africa, with the grace and sensitivity of a rodeo bull. Humorously, he said something to the extent of "If this grandchild is going to have our last name, it will understand that there is order and system, and it will respect the fact that I have to teach, so it will wait for me." He said he would make it to the hospital by 4 pm, and that he would still beat his grandchild from getting there. I responded with something to the extent of "If this kid is anything like me, the baby is going to make you eat your words." We both chuckled, and hung up.



The rest of the labor was pretty chill. People came in for visits, Jamie (our new nurse as of 7 am) popped in for check-ups, and we hung around, listening to the 10-hour long labor play list I had made for Nicole.



At about 9 o'clock Nicole hit 4 cm, which means that we had hit the second-to-the-last mark. From here on out, it was going to be a centimeter-per-hour, and this would mean that the pushing was going to start around 3 pm. The Doctor then checked her again at 11 am and she had already made it to 8 cm! What a jump!! So at about 1:30 pm, it was rock-n-roll time. Nicole requested that the music be changed to just "Drew Andrews" and "Tristeza," and we were off and running! (Recalling my conversation with my father, I began to chuckle... this kid was really going to make my dad eat his words, AND I WAS LOVING IT!!)



At some point, as Nicole was dilating, I went out to the waiting room to give everyone an update. I said things were progressing, and since I didn't really have the means of portraying the situation verbally, I made a hand gesture as if two doors were opening... This got everyone fired up. Ernie shouted something to the extent of "too much information with the hand gestures... " And I am not too certain Jerry was comfortable with me talking about his daughter's condition in the way I was going about it (so if you are reading Jerry, I am really sorry).



Lisa had shown up right around 11, I believe, to hear the good news. She was with us in the room 100% and Nicole was very thankful to have her mother there for the emotional support. I was thankful to have her there for Nicole's sake, especially considering what she had to do in order to get out here from Honolulu two weeks prior to the slated due-date... Lisa's presence was definately a blessing. She was filming everything, just incase, and as fate would have it, had to change discs as the baby was coming out. We missed the actual birth, but got everything on film leading up to it, and we got a bunch of footage post-delivery. When I can get that digitized, I'll get it up ASAP. (And Jerry, I will not show any foot-age of any "doors opening" or anything else of the sort.)



Poor Nicole had to push and push and push... for what seemed like forever. Lisa and I were taking turns filming and holding Nicole's left leg, cheering her through her 30 seconds of pushing for each of her contractions. We started around 1:30 pm, and by 3:45 pm, we could see some hair poking out... Now, I don't know if I told her about my conversation with my father and she loves to prove him wrong as much as I do, or if she was just tired of pushing, but I looked at Nicole and she said, "we are going to have this baby in 15 minutes!!" To which I said "Heck Yes!!" Well, that didn't work out.



4 o'clock came and went. Doctor McNeely was in the room now, and he was holding on to the hair that was poking out... he said it helped to prevent the baby from sliding back in after every push, but I think it had more to do with the fact that he liked giving babies faux-hawks. He was a nice a guy, and looking back on it, I kinda wish he was our Doc for the whole 9 months leading up to the big day. He had a bag in place to catch all the blood which he called "the easiest lay-up ever."



At 4:15 pm thing were looking pretty good. I made a crack in the room about a 4:20 baby... which had a few people snickering and a few people left wondering. But that came and went as well... actually it was around this time that we got the baby's head out. The chord was loosely wrapped around his neck twice, so the Doc had to cut it. After that, Nicole pushed the shoulders out, and at 4:25, out came our baby. "It's a boy!!" I yelled as we caught a glimpse of his gonads. Both of us were in total amazement. A boy? Really? I think Lisa and Roy had a bet going, and I think that Lisa won... Hi-Five!



Even though Doctor McNeely had already cut the chord, I still got to cut it again. I told the baby that I was going to make some wise-ass remark about "cutting him off from his mother, and from here on out he was going to be expected to hold his own," and how Doctor McNeely had stolen my thunder... I then made the snip and he was placed on his mother's chest. Everyone was relieved. No c-section, no other crazy complications, and we got a bouncing baby boy. He was two weeks early and 6 pounds, 8 ounces.



Nicole recovered and ate, what she claims was, the worst turkey sandwich of her life (she was making it back to her ol' critical self again, which I was glad to see), I went out to the waiting room to give everyone the good news. I grabbed Lisa's video camera to document the event, and I turned it on as I walked down the hall. I think it was Julia that was the first to see me coming down, and she alerted everyone in the waiting room. Someone (I think it was Auntie Lisa) asked "Well, what are we?!?!?!" to which I responded "Well... I am a boy.... AND SO IS THE BABY!!"




We let the grandparents in, and then came great grandma so she could see her "GG", of which she now has four... In hindsight, I guess we could say that we subconsciously took Grandma Julie's advice. She said to me, at the baby shower for Little Ethan, "Why wait? All this joy could be yours! If you wait too long you'll be too old to enjoy it." It was those words that rang in my head on the day we took the pregnancy test, and I flashed back to those words again when I saw her walk into the delivery room.



Tia Cynthia showed up sometime prior to delivery but I am not certain as to when. I am just glad I was able to get a photo of her holding the "Young Man." My little brother, Uncle Ryan showed with his girlfriend, Crystal, as well. The first question out of Ryan's mouth was "Okay, so when do we sign him up for soccer? You thinking Centerback? Central Mid? What?" I assured my brother that his nephew would be taking the field by age five. I really can't wait to take him out for a kick-about, let alone start coaching his teams... that is if he takes to soccer.



Soccer or not, he is here... and I am thankful that he made it here, in the healthy condition he is in. Until then, "we be nappin"