The day that Nathan was born

"But he's still so small!"
"Silently, I cursed Mother Nature to allow such pain to exist."
"

“Hey, I dreamt that our baby is coming out next week.” Annie told me this five weeks before the due date. This wouldn’t be a big deal if not for her dream that correctly predicted Nathan’s gender seven months ago.

Yes, our dear baby Nathan.

It took us two years to have our first born. We came up with a few names for him: Gideon, Elliott, Sean, Leon, and Nathan. We couldn’t make up our minds, so we wrote down different combinations of the names on a calendar. Baby Kao can decide what his name will be by the date he comes out. On the week of June 22nd, we had nothing: no names scheduled, except on 6/25 which is my dad’s birthday. We would name our baby Nelson Kao if he were to be born on the same day as his grandpa.

On the morning of June 25th, we went to the doctor for a regular checkup. Dr. Helen told us that everything looked fine, and we should be expecting a healthy baby boy in two or three weeks. After dropping Annie at home, I went straight to Irvine for work. I usually work at the location about 10 minutes from home, but on this day I was sent to Irvine.

At about 5pm, my phone rang with Annie’s caller ID showing. I thought “Oh no!” because she doesn’t usually call me at work. I picked up the phone expecting bad news. “I think my water broke". Annie tried to piece that sentence together while catching her breath between sobbing. I knew I wouldn’t make it home on time, so Annie called her best friend to take her to the hospital. Both Annie and I arrived at the hospital at the same time.

When Annie saw me, her tears flooded out of her eyes like waterfall. “But he’s still too small.” “Don’t worry, honey. We are at a hospital, and you’ll be ok.” I was TRYING to be the strong one. Dr. Helen was already there when we checked in. She saw Annie crying, so she put her hands on Annie’s hand and shoulder. “Don’t worry, Annie, your baby is doing fine. You’ve been through a lot. He’s going to be ok.” We are very blessed to have Dr. Helen who is not just good at what she does, but is also a friendly, gentle, and nice person.

We were able to relax for just enough time for me to walk to the nearest supermarket to equip myself with some necessary late-night pick-me-ups. Shortly after I came back, waves of intense contractions started to overtake Annie. She was clearly in excruciating pain. From the monitor I could see numbers spike way up when contractions attacked. There was nothing I could do. I held her hand and kept saying “We will get to see our baby soon, just hang in there”. Silently, I cursed Mother Nature for allowing pain at this magnitude to exist. Helplessly despairing is what I felt.

To make matter worse, the anesthesiologist, for whatever reason, took more than one hour and several tries to administrate the epidural. Yes, that means Annie was “stabbed” with that HUGE needle SEVERAL times. They removed me from the room, so I didn't see it happen. My imagination did create a vivid visualization using the sound of Annie’s agony.

Time goes by faster when one is free of pain. Both Annie and I were able to get a few hours of much-needed sleep.

I woke up to the sound of a nurse adjusting the vital monitor. She told me that baby’s heart rate was very high. At 7:30am, Dr. Helen walked in. She talked to the nurses, checked all the records, then, again, smiled and reassured Annie and me that everything is under control, but we would need a c-section for the safety of the baby.

She then left for a scheduled surgery. The nurse proceeded to adjust Annie’s IV drip and repositioned the heart beat sensor. Baby’s heart rate came back down to normal, but only for a few minutes. “Baby’s heart rate is VERY high. We need help here.” I yelled to the intercom. Afterward I asked the doctor, what considers normal heart rate, she told me between 120 to 160. Nathan’s heart rate was a few beats away from 200. In my mind, I saw a tiny heart fighting for his life. Again, my imagination really wasn’t doing the situation any favor.

Within the next few minutes, there were four nurses in the room, and Dr. Helen was pulled from her scheduled surgery to assist us. Annie was signing paperwork after paperwork for surgery and was quickly preparing to go into the operation room at 7:50am. Intellectually, I knew things were going to turn out fine, but I couldn’t help to think that I might be in the midst of a tragic story.

“We are almost here, just hang in there.” I mouthed that to Annie as she was being transported to an operation room. While I was waiting to enter the operation room, Dr. Helen once again assured me that, all things considered, Annie was doing fine and things were under control. She also prepared me step-by-step on what was about to happen in the next few minutes. Dr. Helen has really been a God-send to us.

At 8:05am, a nurse waved me into the OR. I sat next to Annie. We both were waiting anxiously for our baby’s crying sound. And here it was! A sound that later would be associated with dirty diapers and countless sleepless nights, now it is announcing the triumph of life. I, speechless for once, cut the cord in awe. A new identity that was a father slowly surfaced and transcended my world view. I took pictures of he who was unnamed still and his mother who fought and won a glorious battle. I followed the baby to the nursery for his first checkup. I gazed at this new life and opened my mouth for our first father-son conversation. I whispered “hey”, and the rest of the conversation was composed of my tears of joy. No spoken words necessary. Welcome to the world, son. Your parents love you so very much