New Pictures!

His hat finally fits! He's hit 8 lbs this week!

Just over 5 weeks old!

Two of the most precious little feet in the world!

Our little boy! One month old!



Mommy and Henry. I loooove this little child!

Happy Halloween! Our little pumpkin!

The Birth Story- Mimi's Point of View

First of all, I had intended for my mom to be hanging out with me during the afternoon as the contractions were coming on, but not be in the delivery room. I did tell her not to come to the hospital til after lunch though since we were not expected to deliver until later that evening. Luckily she came early. We were hanging out for a bit and then I sent her to McDonalds. Oops! Sorry mom!

Kathy Drew's Point of View:
How do I begin to explain the range of emotion I felt on October 13? I woke up about 9:00 at Teresa's house and immediately called her to see how the night had gone. She informed me she didn't get the cervacil because the nurse said she didn't need it. I thought that was a good sign. Teresa wanted me to go by Target and pick up a mesh laundry bag for baby socks. I don't know why that was so important right then but she said I had plenty of time to do it and I would be bored at the hospital all day. I believed her. I got dressed, went by Target and got to the hospital about 10:30. I relieved Spencer since he had been with her all night. We played guessing games with the monitor as to when she was having contractions and the ones that hurt and the ones that didn't. About 12:00 someone came in and said she was going to get her epidural. She didn't want me in the room for this so I left.I went to McDonald's, stopped by a pay phone bench and worked a crossword puzzle and then went to sit with Kay and Jarrel Shell in the waiting room. We were talking about our jobs and other odd topics when a nurse came out and asked if were the only ones waiting for the Shells. We said "Yes" and she asked us to go to another waiting room. I thought this was odd because it was only about 12:45. I got very scared that Teresa and/or the baby were in some trouble. As we walked down the hall she said that everything had gone well and mom and baby were fine. I told her she must have the wrong mother because my child had just gotten an epidural and I was waiting to go back in the watch TV with her. She said "No" that everything was fine and we could see Teresa soon. I burst into tears and yelled, "Oh my gosh, she had to have a C-section, didn't she?" She said "Yes. Teresa was in recovery and we could see her in about one hour." I told her I wanted to see her immediately and she said only immediate family could go into recovery. I asked her what she thought a mother was if not immediate family. That really hit home! She also said she couldn't give me any details because everything was confidential. I grabbed her by the shoulder and yelled I was her mother and she better tell me something. I told her to send Spencer out and let him tell me details. My imagination was going crazy and I need some details. I gave her my camera and asked her to get pictures of Spencer, Teresa and/or the baby. I was told she kept saying "Henry" but I was too scared to notice it. She brought the camera back in about 5 minutes because I guess she could see I was about to lose it. There were several adorable pictures of Spencer and Henry. This calmed me down quite a bit. In about 15 more minutes Spencer came out. I was never so glad to see anyone in my life. I just wanted details on Teresa and how she was doing. I was sobbing by this time and couldn't stop it.The Shells and I returned to the waiting room and called everyone we knew to give them the good news. THREE hours later Teresa came out of the recovery room and we followed her to her new room. I know I have never been so scared and so happy all in a matter of hours in my life. Henry is wonderful and I just can't get enough of him!

The Birth Story - Spencer's Point of View

"I NEED ANY OB TO ROOM A3 STAT! ANY OB TO ROOM A3!!" - so when I heard those words over the public address system at Northside Hospital and connected them with our nurse shouting excitedly into the phone in our room, I became all too aware of the fact that I wasn't going to get to finish my McDonald's french fries. But I guess I am getting a little ahead of myself....

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" is a pretty good way to sum up October 13, 2009 (it would also make a really good opening to a novel about the French Revolution), because the day Henry was born was both. A day full of panic, stress, fear and exhaustion that ended with our being given one of the greatest gifts that can be offered in life. All through the days Teresa had spent on the High Risk wing at Northside, we had been assured that despite her pre-eclampsyia, we could expect an absolutely normal delivery. Reeeeeeal funny guys, the joke is on us I guess.

The day started normally enough I guess. We awoke in the delivery room where we had spent the night ready to start the hours of labor that we had been promised lay before us. After Teresa was hooked up to an i.v. drug that was guaranteed to produce a baby in 24 hours or so, she jumped right into her exciting day by taking a 2 hour nap. I watched the hosts of the Today show interview some elderly woman who was complaining about being tasered after resisting arrest. She got what she deserved if you ask me but now I guess I am getting off topic.

Things really started to move along when the midwife dropped by to "break" Teresa's water for her. After watching that maneuver, I think if I had known that is all it took to start delivery I could have gotten us out of there a week or so early. The next hour was spent watching stuff come out of places it shouldn't so I won't go into too much more detail. Suffice it to say that when Teresa's mom showed up, they didn't have to ask me twice if I wanted to walk over to the famous Northside Hospital McDonald's to grab lunch.

So here I am, already exhausted from lack of sleep, just trying to eat my burger and fries thinking to myself "Wow, we have hours left, I wish we could speed this up" when in walks the Anesthesiologist to administer the epidural to Teresa. Unfortunately, I wasn't finished eating yet so they made me put down my half eaten french fries as I was expected to actively participate by holding Teresa in a upright position. So, in goes the epidural and Teresa goes back on the fetal monitor...except I immediately notice that the nurse does not like what she sees. Picking up on her body language, I know something isn't right, but I don't want to ask out loud what is wrong as I know Teresa hasn't figured it out yet and I don't want to worry her.

Next thing I know, our nurse is shouting over the p.a. system and I know my fries are history. Kidding aside, this is when I felt the most helpless. Doctor's began pouring into the room from out of nowhere but I couldn't ask what was going on. I didn't want to distract them from more important things. I only knew something was seriously wrong. I couldn't even stand by Teresa where I felt I should be as I knew I would only be in the way. After a very few tense minutes, I heard our doctor say "I'm scrubbing in, lets go, NOW!"

And off we went. Two nurses, an orderly (??? he didn't bother to introduce himself) and a very freaked out expectant father pushing a massive hospital room bed at break neck speed down the halls of Northside to the operating room. I thought our luck couldn't get much worse when we ran the bed into the door that refused to open. I knew I was horribly wrong when the aforementioned bed fell apart. Still not really knowing what to make of all this, I realize all the shouting is the nurses telling me to pick up the medical charts that had hit the floor when the bed came apart. I am not sure why the charts were so important, I thought we already new she was pregnant but I guess there was more info in there.

Fortunately, we got the bed moving again and realized from our previous error that hitting a door is not a good way to stop a hospital bed. Instead, the nurses slammed the bed into a housekeeping cart outside the OR. That stopped it.

Suffice it to say at this point I am absolutely panicked. My unborn son is in a struggle for his life. My wife, already weakened from pre-eclampsyia and hours of labor is about to undergo major surgery. Everything that I care about, everything that is important in my so far perfect life is literally hanging by a thread. This...isn't....good.

Now I am being passed from nurse to nurse as they try to get me dressed in scrubs and things start really blurring at this point. I remember little snippets of reality from this point on. The nurse tying on my face mask. Another instructing me not to touch anything "blue", prompting me to place my hands under my armpits (I'm color blind so I decide I won't touch anything.) The Anesthesiologist telling me they can't do much for Teresa's pain, but hopefully she will only feel a great deal of pressure an not too much pain. I am talking to Teresa from a distance, can't get close because of the doctors. The OB is holding something outstretched in her arms above Teresa. A little bundle in the doctor's arms....not sure what it is...focusing on Teresa's face as she stops moaning. A tap on the shoulder from behind. Turning to face a nurse "Do you want to meet your son?"

The blurring stops at this point, I can focus. My son? I look toward Teresa, isn't he still in there? I finally realize what that strange bundle was as they lead me over to the warming table where I meet my son. A 6lbs 1 oz little miracle. The nurse looks at me and asks if he has a name and the tears start rolling down my face as I say for the first time "Henry. His name is Henry."

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I can honestly say I have never known fear quite like I did when I saw Teresa on the operating table. I have never known a sense of love and relief as strong as when they told me Teresa would be fine. I am certain that I will never know more joy than I did when I saw Henry's face.