She's here

We had a baby -- a girl -- at 9:12 a.m. Friday.
The day started a bit earlier than that, though.
We had to be at the hospital by 6:30 a.m. so Anni could be prepped for the c-section. The docs and nurses were great in explaining the procedure to us before surgery. They gave me a sneak peek at the operating room before Anni went in and I got my marching orders.
"You'll walk in and go right to the head of the operating table," a nurse said. "You'll stand there for the entire delivery. Oh, and you won't touch anything." (Really? Because I was hoping to lend a hand.)
It really is true that dads just get in the way during pre-delivery and delivery. Everywhere I stood, a nurse needed to be. I'd move to a corner of the pre-surgery room, thinking I'd be out of the way, but a nurse would need something. I'd move somewhere else, but the nurse would find something else she needed.
Finally, I just sat down in a chair on the other side of the room, armed myself with two cameras and started shooting photos of Anni before the surgery.
They rolled Anni in at about 8:30 a.m. and gave her a "spinal," numbing her from chest down. (I had two stiff drinks at home the night before and they worked just as well and did not require a shot in the back.) Her doc, who has seen her for nine months and insisted on doing the c-section, actually sat at her side and chatted with her while waiting for the drugs to kick in.
Great bedside manner? Check.
I was pretty sure they had forgotten about me because after about 15 or 20 minutes I could hear the docs finish scrubbing their hands and walk into the operating room. Meanwhile, I was still in the pre-surgery room waiting for an escort into the operating room.
Eventually, a nurse brought me in. I did as told, walking right to the head of the bed. Anni was awake and alert, but obviously blocked from viewing the procedure.
From my angle, I could see the docs using knives and scissors and pulling tools and suction tubes and their hands. From under the blue curtain, Anni only could see a doctor's shadow.
"It's like my own puppet show," she said. I would say that was the medication talking, but she digs puppet shows.
After about 10 minutes, I watched as one of the doctors lifted the baby out of Anni's belly. The baby seemed a little too blue right away, making me a little nervous, but within moments it let out a small cry. The doc held up the baby and I just stared. It was all very surreal -- a baby being held in mid-air while doctors and nurses scurried around in the background. It was so surreal, in fact, that I almost forgot to tell Anni the baby was delivered.
We decided that since Anni would not be able to see the baby the moment it was delivered, I would tell her the sex, rather than having the nurses blurt it out.
"We have a girl," I said simply.
They put the baby under the warmer to clean her and check vitals. Thinking about it now, I would have preferred they just wrapped her up and set her on Anni's chest and delayed the vital check.
I stood next to the warmer, staring at a baby just minutes old. There she was. Out of the belly. Two arms. Two legs -- lanky legs. A 21-inch-long body. Full fingernails. Long toes. Eyes that peeked earlier than I thought they would. A head of dark brown hair. A healthy cry.
Anni had to wait several minutes before she got to spend some time with the baby, but she could hear her and she was aware of what was going on.
A nurse weighed the baby and told me she was 9 pounds, 5 ounces.
"Anni, she's nine pounds, five ounces," I said.
"Nine pounds, five ounces? Holy shit," was Anni's response from across the room. I would say that was the medication talking...
They wrapped up the baby and I brought her over for Anni to see. We sat down at the head of the operating table and eventually a doc helped put the baby on Anni's chest.

We discussed names a bit more. We had narrowed down the first name to either Julia or Elise. When it came down to it, though, this girl was an Elise. We settled on that.
Before heading up to the nursery for some blood-sugar tests (It started low, but climbed to normal levels after a little sugar water.) I stepped out into a waiting area and let the family know all was well -- but did not tell them whether it was a boy or girl. Anni wanted to do that and I selfishly relished the fact that for a short time, only Anni and I knew we had a girl.

As the baby and I went to the nursery, Anni was getting stitched up. About a half-hour later, we went downstairs and met Anni in a recovery room, where a nice nurse took the first "family photo." Being picky about pictures, I made the nurse feel bad when I looked at the photo she took and said: "That's fine. We can take another later." I just meant that it would work as an early snapshot and that we would get more taken once we get to Anni's patient room. She took it to mean that her photo was garbage. You decide.

Anni recovered quickly from the anesthesia. Before long we were getting situated in her patient room. Little Elise Louise (Louise is Anni's and her mother's middle name) was cute from the very beginning. No wrinkly old man. No scrunched face. No screaming. She slept for much of the day, even as she was passed from one set of grandparents to the other before being coddled by other relatives.


The day flew by and it was overwhelming. Exhausting, too. But there we were, new parents to a healthy baby girl.

It was a good feeling -- especially because I had not yet changed her diaper.