Baby Boy Number 2

Dec 4, 2004

Chase Kenneth Wootton

I didn’t really expect to find myself in the hospital just after midnight,
early on a Sunday morning. The wife had emerged from the bathroom
just a short while ago. Her water had broken. It was time to go.

I didn’t anticipate that it would happen so fast. It seemed only moments ago
when the babysitter for Cam arrived. I packed the truck.
I threw the camera in the back. I added the new car seat in its
proper spot. Less than four hours later, 7 centimeters was the
measurement of interest.

And I really didn’t know what to do with myself when the doctor
and nurses began to move with a sense of urgency. The little
heartbeat emitting from the nearby monitor was straining.
Contractions made it dangerously slow. I found myself slightly
out of the way while the hospital staff took the necessary precautions.

My wife found her bed titled — her head lower than her feet. An oxygen
mask was placed over her mouth. The strained lines that crossed across her
face weren’t the result labor pains.
In a fit of courage, she pleaded with the doctor. “Tell me what I
can do to help my baby. I’ll do anything.”

The doctor replied in a calm voice, “Just try not to wander into the
hallway.”

Shortly thereafter, things settled down. My wife’s blood pressure
rebounded. The baby’s heartbeat stabalized. Active labor was about
to begin. We waited for things to remain calm for a bit.
Twenty minutes followed. The quiet beep of the baby’s heart kept
us company.

Chase, Taking it Easy

We were relieved when things began in earnest. The wife was prepared –
even excited – to begin pushing. She barely got the chance. After a
couple of pushes, I stole a glimpse of a small tuft of hair. A few
pushes later, the doctor grabbed a pair of forceps and told the wife
he’d take things from here.

Before I knew it, my second son lay in my wife’s arms. He cried, providing
two parents the desired assurance that he was ok. I followed his lead.
Chase Kenneth Wootton, meet world. World, meet my youngest son.

I’ve tried to write this blog, a chronicle of the birth of my second
son, several times. Each time the events of the birth sound
dire, something that will likely surprise those who’ve talked to me since.
In casual conversation, I tend to dismiss the harried events of the actual
birth rather quickly. However, when putting things in writing, I can’t
seem to dodge the sparks of fear and worry that preceded the little gift
from God that followed.

I suppose it is a reminder of just how lucky we are. From what I understand,
all the concern I felt was not a mistake. It wasn’t just a feeling brought
on my watching scurrying folks in hospital scrubs. We were later told
that a nearby room had been prepped for an emergency C-section, just in case.

God has blessed us. The Wootton clan now counts 4 in their number.
We are, by all official measures, a family. We no longer
talk of our child. We speak of “our boys”. We fret over “the kids”.
Critical mass has been reached, filling our house, heart, and
lives rather nicely.

I believe the biggest surprise in the end, if you speak to my wife and I, is
that this family thing happened at all. Three years ago, we would have given anything for
what we have now. Two years of trying with no results ensured we felt
the grips of despair. Now we pick our little dreams up for hugs and nestle
them close just because we can. There isn’t a better feeling in the
world.

The Wootton Family

by | Categories: family |

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3 Responses so far | Have Your Say!

  1. Laura
    December 6th, 2004 at 11:12 am #

    Congratulations to you all. He is absolutely beautiful!

  2. Deb
    December 28th, 2004 at 10:22 am #

    Well Ken, welcome to the world of boys, that is plural for boy, because boys are much different from boy. Look forward to picking, fighting, football, tripping, trucks, noise, noise, and more noise, and lots of food and the two best friends you’ll ever have. My advice on boys; Don’t sweat the small stuff, teach them to respect one another (someday they will be glad you did)and let them work things out on their own, except of course they are on the floor punching the daylights out of each other like Michael and Taylor did some years ago, in that case break them up and make them apologize to each other and don’t think because they are boys they don’t need love, cuddles, and kisses from their dad. The older boys are 14 now and still like to cuddle on the couch with some popcorn and watch a football game. pst don’t tell their friends or them I said that, they would kill me.

    Love you

  3. sarah
    March 18th, 2007 at 6:17 am #

    I am so happy for you and lots of look i have 2 little boys Oliver who is 3 and Luke who is 7 monthes they are a hanfull but it is worth it hope you cope well!!!!!
    Best wishes
    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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