Sorry for not updating sooner but as most of you know I have a pretty good excuse. Wilma came and kicked our butt pretty good. As a result, 98% of Miami-Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach County were left without power. We were told we might get power back by November 8th, 15th or 22nd. due to the severe infrastructure damage sustained. As of this writing the restoration effort is as follows:

60.6% of the affected population has had power restored.

Our house sustained minor damage. We lost some roof tiles and 25% of our screened-in enclosure was destroyed. All in all we feel blessed.

What a whirlwind the last eleven days has been. We were admitted to the hospital on Wednesday, October 19th, 2005 at 6:00PM and began the induction process. The nurse connected Elena up to a fetal monitor and contraction monitor. An IV was inserted into the back of her hand and Cervidil was administered around 7:00PM. From this point on Elena would be confined to her bed, with only short trips to the bathroom allowed. She would also have her last solid meal for the next 26 hours.

October 20, 2005 6:00AM Thursday morning: The nurse began the Pitocin drip. The goal of which was to chemically start contractions. The Dr. evaluated her at around 8:00AM and gave her the news that nothing had changed. No dilation, no effacement. The plan would be to continue her Pitocin, increasing it at 20 minute intervals and monitoring for changes. During the course of the day the contraction monitor would record periodic contractions, Elena would feel a handful of those which she would describe as mild. At 6:00 PM the Pitocin would be removed and Elena would be allowed to have dinner before fasting again for another 24 hours. At 8:00PM Elena is administered Cervidil once again. After 25 hours in bed she is tired and frustrated, but trying to be strong.

October 21, 2005 8:30AM Friday morning: Another examination by the Dr. reveals no change. Elena is physically exhausted, hungry, and now devastated by the news. The plan is to continue the Pitocin and monitoring until close of business. If at that time there is still no change a C-Section would be performed. One way or another Emma will be born this day. I am consumed by a feeling of helplessness as I watch Elena go through this. Unable to physically ease her pain I begin the process of psychologically preparing Elena for the C-Section so that she can come to terms with the fact that there will most likely be no change during her next evaluation. After some dialog, Elena is comforted by the fact that Emma will be born today and appears accepting of whatever news the Dr. brings. An hour later the Dr. informs Elena that they will re-evaluate her status at 1:00PM and perform the C-Section at that time.

October 21, 2005 1:15PM Friday afternoon: Elena is evaluated by her Dr. Once again, no change detected. She is prepped and taken to the Operating Room. I am handed a sterile jumpsuit which I am to slip over my clothes. I am told to hang tight and I will be picked up after Elena has been given her spinal tap to numb her lower body. We embrace for one final time and she is whisked away. Nervously I put my scrubs on over my clothes and wait. Though routine, I can't help fight the fear that I could lose everything if things go wrong. I try to remain calm and keep a positive attitude while I wait for the nurse to collect me. At approximately 1:50 PM I am taken to the operating room where Elena is already on the table and under the knife. I see a team of 10 people in the room and catch a glimpse of Elena's surgically exposed lower abdomen. I quickly avert my eyes for fear of losing consciousness. Normally I can handle the most gruesome of procedures and goriest of war wound cinematography, but this was different. This was the person that I love the most in this world. There's a good chance that I would have been able to handle watching the procedure, but there was no way I was willing to risk it. After a Matrix moment, where time stood still, I scanned the room for direction as to where I should go and was escorted to the safe side of the curtain where Elena's head and shoulders were. Elena, arms outstretched in a crucifixian pose, was pale and anxious looking. I sat by her head and told her how beautiful she was and how good she was doing. She was so brave and I was so nervous. I kissed her on the head and touched her to let her know I was there. A few minutes later her eyes opened wide and frantic. She exclaimed she felt pulling and that she couldn't breath. I watched her body tug downward several times and tried to comfort her but it all happened so fast. After four or five tugs there was a pause and a baby's cry could be heard. I dropped my head downward and wept aloud. Elena, unable to move, wept as well. Even as I write this my eyes swell with tears as I relive the moment. It was the moment we had sacrificed and waited four years for.

October 21, 2005 1:58PM Emma was born. 8 lbs 3 oz and 20.75 inches long. There are no words to describe the emotion of that moment. It was powerful beyond words. I hope to never forget that feeling and pray that it always affects me as it did that day when I recount it. A minute later the Dr. said, "Do you want to see your baby?" and held Emma up over the sheet that separated us from the procedure. Emma was covered in a cocktail of blood, amniotic fluid, and lanugo, but was still the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. Elena and I once again wept out loud. Elena extended her hand to touch baby Emma and Emma instinctively grabbed her finger. It was a moment neither Elena nor I will ever forget. Emma was then whisked away to the opposite end of the operating room where she was examined and administered the APGAR test. She scored a 9 out of a possible 10. Nobody scores a perfect 10 (according to parents whose child scores a 9).

Upon completion of her evaluation Emma was brought to us for a quick family photo and then taken back to Elena's room. I was placed in the horrible position of wanting to be in two places at once. Elena and I had discussed this prior to the procedure and agreed that I would stay with Emma. Even so, it still killed me to leave Elena alone on the operating room table. For 13 years we have stood by each others side. To leave her alone like this was brutal. Dutifully and guiltily I followed the nurse and my precious Emma back to the room. The nurse concluded her tests and measurements, bundled Emma up, placed her in my arms, and left the room. For the first time in my life I held a baby only minutes old. I was elated and in awe of this tiny child swaddled in my arms. It felt magical and surreal. I inspected Emma as she lay there calm and cuddled. She was beautiful, just like her Mother.

And then I was consumed with guilt. Like the boy who steals the prize from the box of cereal before it is poured out into the bowl of its rightful owner. "I should not be the first one to hold Emma. Elena should be" I thought. She had physically sacrificed and endured so much to bring her into this world and I was enjoying the spoils of victory before her while she lay cold and alone on an operating room table, as the doctors rebuilt her. It was a sad and lonely revelation to have, but it was the truth. I cuddled Emma and reassured her that her Mother was coming and began to tell her of all the wonderful sacrifices her Mother had made to bring her into the world and how lucky she was to have Elena as her Mother.

Forty-five minutes later Elena was wheeled into the room on her bed and I promptly brought Emma to her and held her by her head so she could take her in and see her more thoroughly and completely than in their first brief encounter. I then placed Emma on Elena's chest and Emma began to suckle. It was a beautiful thing to behold.
We stayed at the hospital for three more nights while Elena healed. During this time I insisted that Elena focus on recovery while I tended to Emma's diaper changing needs. I had never changed a baby's diaper before but over the course of these three days I quickly became a pro. Cheering Emma on when she left little "presents" in her diaper for Daddy. I suppose my infatuation with her leaving little poops in her diaper has to do with the fact that the health of a baby in the early days is evaluated based on the number and color of their poop. As a result, I gave Emma a lot of praise when she pooped for Daddy. That's love.

During our stay at the hospital we had many a sleepless night as we learned for the first time what it meant to have an infant. After the first night we took to heart what all parents say, "Sleep when the baby sleeps". Even so, it is difficult to snap into such a pattern and takes time and a concerted effort before a routine can be established.

Over the weekend we would have several visitors at the hospital, Eager to see Emma and share this exciting time in our lives.

On Monday October 24, 2005 Hurricane Wilma cut across the state of Florida knocking-out power and leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. The Hospital we were in lost power and was on backup generators. As a result, no air conditioning or lights were available in the room. The devastation was so severe that a curfew was in effect after massive power outages blacked out multiple adjoining counties. To make matters worse, the Hospital's strict policy on narcotic distribution disallowed them from providing Elena with any of the pain medication they had been giving her, to go. She would be forced to attempt to fill a prescription in the mess left by Hurricane Wilma or feel the effects of the fourteen staples that held together the eight inch incision carved into her lower abdomen. It was an example of people blindly following procedure even when it doesn't make sense. Elena was forced to take two half dozes and palm the other half so that she could have some relief until the morning. Fortunately for us, Elena had a three day supply of Tylenol with codeine left over from a previous procedure that she was able to take to ease the pain until pharmacies were open.

There is still so much more to write but it has taken me three days to put this update together so I will save my thoughts for another day. I highlighted the winning guesses of the "Guess Emma's DOB & Weight" contest. Remember, it was the closest without going over so Jorge wins for DOB and Rob (Emma's Godfather) and Carole win for her weight.

Thanks again to all our friends and family for your thoughts and prayers. Your involvement and enthusiasm has made this part of the adventure all the more meaningful. Stay tuned as the adventure continues...