7 Minutes

Seven minutes.  That is all it took to totally change my life.  But before I get to those seven minutes, let me talk about the days, hours, and minutes leading up to it.  On Saturday June, 22 Lisa and I made a trip to the hospital because she thought she was going into labor.  We spent the afternoon into the early evening there.  She was dilated to 3 cm but never went beyond that, and after 3 attempts the nurses finally were able to get the contractions to stop. We left that night with instructions for Lisa to remain on bed rest for the remainder of the weekend.
Sunday, June 23 Lydia and I got up and around and headed off to worship and Sunday school at Memorial Road C of C.  We had a great morning.  Mama was left at home on the couch following her doctoral mandate to remain on the couch/bed and do nothing.  Not sure if her morning was great or not.  The afternoon passed by without incident, and more importantly without contraction.  In fact Lisa did not have a contraction at all on Sunday.
Monday, June 24 Lisa got up and went to work.  She was feeling good and relatively contraction free.  I set off to the nursery to continue painting the stripes that never seemed to end on those walls.  Lisa texted me throughout the morning to let me know that she was doing well.  At 10:55 am Lisa texted me to tell me she had been having minor contractions off and on all morning, and then asked me if I would just meet her at Dr. Levine's for the regularly scheduled appointment.  At 1 I met Lisa at the doctor's office.  She was still at 3 cm and seemed to be doing fine.  Dr. Levine assumed that Josiah would be coming sometime before his July 26th due date.  She was leaving on vacation the next morning and said if needed we would schedule a c-section (Josiah is breech and probably not going to flip at this point) for July 5th or so after she returned.  She then jokingly said, "or you could just schedule it for tonight and I'll do it before I leave."  We laughed.  Boy was that going to come back and bite us.  Lisa was sent back to work and all seemed fine.
3:22 pm - I texted Lisa to see how she was doing and received the following response, "Contractions are getting stronger. I'm trying to time them. I don't think they are lasting a minute. I think they are shorter." I asked how often. "That's what I'm having trouble figuring out.  I think they are longer than 5 min".  My response was to laugh out loud (lol in the common texting vernacular) and ask if she needed a stop watch.  "I'm trying to get something done so its difficult. I'll try better." My response, again, would come back to bite me - Just so he doesn't crawl out while you're there at work.
3:46 pm - Lisa texted to tell me that the contractions were strong.
4:16 pm - Lisa texted this, "I'm coming home. Too much pain!" I dropped off the ladder and ran to the bedroom.  Started getting bags packed and freaking out.  He's too early.  He's not due for 5 more weeks.  This can't be happening.  Downs and early? Too many complications!
5:00 pm - We arrived at the labor and delivery unit at Mercy.  Lisa was in so much pain.  I did not know what to do for her.  When the nurse realized (I'll spare you how she realized) this, things went really fast.  Really fast!  We were whisked away to a operating room for an emergency c-section.  Lisa was now fully dilated and this was happening.  Somewhere around 5:15 I was sitting outside an operating room listening to my beloved scream in pain.
And that brings us to the 7 minutes that I will never forget...
5:21 pm - Lisa's water breaks. I hear someone yell, "Wait, we can't do the c-section.  There is an arm coming out."  At that exact moment, in something that can only be described as a scene strait out of Grey's Anatomy, Dr. Levine flew through the double doors and screamed, "Its not an arm, its a foot.  That baby is breech!" She was gloved and gowned faster than Clark changing to Superman inside a telephone booth.  And again, I'm left outside the operating room listening to screams of pain, shouts of medical terms, and random warblings that I could not make out.
5:27 pm - SILENCE!  All the screaming stopped.  All the doctors' voices quieted.  I was outside of my mind.  I could not hear anything.  I knew that Josiah was breech.  I knew that he was early.  I knew that he was not supposed to be coming out the way he was coming out.  And in that silence, I lost it.  I thought that I lost him, or her, or them.  I was in tears, cursing the rule that had kept me out of the o.r. as my wife and unborn son were obviously experiencing a fate I had only considered in my nightmares.
5:28 pm - "Daddy, you want to come see your baby boy?"  I nearly ran into the o.r.  Lisa was on the table smiling and being attended to.  Josiah was being measured and weighed.  I was able to help with his footprints.  I even got one on my gown.  I also got to hold him; to kiss that beautiful little face. I took pictures.  I recorded videos.  I saw my son.  My son!  MY SON!  My life had changed.
I went to Lisa.  Holding her hand, I told her in tears that I thought something terrible had happened.  She laughed.  I was then told that the nurse had told her this baby was coming and she needed to "shut-up and push."  We laughed.  It had come back to bite us.
So, my baby boy decided to come in 7 minutes.  In those 7 minutes, I think I felt every emotion known to man.  After that 7 minutes, I realized 2 things: 1. My world was changing because I have a baby boy, and extra chromosome or not, he is my son; 2. My world was changing because I was seeing my wife is a brand new light.  I always knew she was tough.  But this?  She delivered our son breech, vaginally, with no drugs.  Rock-star.
7 Minutes - Best time of my life!
Not what I expected but definitely what this daddy desired.