Early Arrival

I had planned to tell the story of how/when/where we found out Superwife was expecting our first little bundle of joy. Based on today's events that blog post will be posted in the "good ideas" file for a little while longer.

Wednesday, August 5th started out like most days around the Overocker household. Woke up, stumbled into the kitchen to get Superwife's breakfast ready, yelled at the dogs because they were barking, and went back to glance through the closet before settling on a polo/slacks combination that didn't completely clash. It also happened to be the morning of Superwife's next checkup, and I had skipped the last few. Being a month away from d-day (that's delivery day) it was probably a good idea if I schlepped my way to see the doctor, too. Superwife being the morning person she is decided to schedule the first time slot, 7:15 a.m.

Quick sidenote...the pregnancy had been completely hassle-free. No morning sickness, no swelling, no strange cravings that had me searching for the only donut shop open at 2 a.m., nada.
The visit begins just like every other. Then the doctor comes in with the "vitals" and says she is concerned about Jodie's blood pressure.

"Are you ready to have this baby today?"

Me-"huh?"

We're immediately sent to the labor/delivery section (area, floor, ward, whatever they call it) of the hospital for some blood work and monitoring. The nurse in triage says, "your blood pressure sucks." I think to myself that can't be a good sign, but we'll wait until the situation stabilizes.

Another nurse comes in with the blood work, checks the BP, and says, "your blood work is fine, your blood PRESSURE is crappy." How are you supposed to interpret that? Is it better or worse than 'sucks'? Is there a scale of colorful language, something like the Department of Homeland Security has for the terror-alert threat level?

Needless to say Jodie is admitted and given her own private room, which I have to admit is bigger (and nicer) than the first room I slept in during my freshman year of college.

I've given you way more detail than you care to read about at this point, but after inducing Superwife the heartrate monitor showed Cooper's heartbeat beginning to slow a bit. Nothing dangerous, but the doctor played it safe and decided he was going to come visit sooner than Superwife's body was progressing. No more than 10 minutes after that decision was made I was sliding on the sexiest coveralls you've ever seen. I have to admit I would make one handsome doctor.

About a half-hour later, Cooper James was born. He was three weeks early, but Superwife and baby are both well. He tipped the scales at 5 lbs. 8 oz. and was 18 3/4 inches long. Visual evidence is below.