It all began five years ago today (well, technically, about five years and nine months ago). He actually didn't want to come out. My wife spent several hours in labor (trabalho de parto ) but he wasn't budging. Finally our doctor gave us a choice: move ahead with a C-Section (cesariana) or continue through the natural labor process which, up to that moment, had not caused any distress to the baby. There are several indicators of fetal distress, the heartbeat being one of them; if it is too accelerated or too slowed down, there could be cause for alarm.
We discussed it for a while. There wasn't really that much to discuss. What are you going to do, argue with your doctor? I really wanted a natural birth, to be one of the very few in Brazil who are fortunate enough to have one, but it wasn't to be. So my wife was whisked away to the operating room where the doctors began the procedure.
They throw up a blue curtain-like cloth over the mother's belly so you can't see what they're doing. It's probably better that way. My wife was awake and coherent. We chatted excitedly, and a few minutes later our doctors yanked him out of the womb and plopped him onto the scale.
He was purple and wailing in that high, keening sound newborns make. I was screaming, "he's perfect, he's perfect!!" My wife was trying to twist her head around to see what was going on and the doctors were frantically sewing up her belly. What a beautiful moment! Despite the blood and amniotic fluid!
He was perfect then (because he had still not learned how to negotiate or talk back), and he's even more breathtaking now. Not in the Seinfeldian sense, but because you can see him becoming a little person, with his own ideas, sense of humor and wit. He's got his mother's practical and logical side (thank God!) and he's got the Cashill sense of sarcasm - a nice little mix.
Here's to you, Mic! Happy 5th!