Well, you've probably guessed by now that Manuji is here, and no longer Manuji.
Please say hello to Maxwell Robb, born at 12:25pm on Saturday, June 21st via emergency c-section. He weighed 8lbs 2.5 oz, and was 21 inches long.
The birth story is a long one and I have so much to say about it. But he is here! Max is here! And he's healthy and beautiful and safe and funny and all we ever hoped for. And for the record - yep, the stripping of membranes did work and started my labor on Friday night. But again, I'd like to do the birth story justice. Hopefully one of these days Max will give me a few minutes to write it out.
Max's middle name is "Robb" which is also my father's middle name. Not only my father's middle name, but his mother's maiden name before that and also the name the everyone who knows my father calls him.
I can't remember if I mentioned this in my last post, but last week (which now seems like an eternity), Dad decided to enter hospice care. Last Thursday, Jeeves and I went out to visit Dad and were pleasantly surprised to see him in decent spirits, and not at death's door as my sister had described. Before I saw him, I had a whole maudlin speech prepared in which I was going to tell my dad how much he meant to me (which he already knew), how much these last 5 years have meant to me, and that I would take care of my sister when he was gone. But since he was doing so well, I held off. But we did tell Dad Max's full name and he cried about the inclusion of Robb.
I didn't talk to my dad on Friday - he didn't answer his cell phone which is not surprising because in his failing health he was constantly leaving it around and forgetting how it worked.
On Saturday, when I came out of surgery, there were many texts from my sister. Dad had fallen badly in the shower at the assisted living facility and hit his head. He had a seizure and was sent to the ER. There he was diagnosed with a brain bleed. He was admitted to the oncology ward in a coma. My sister didn't think he'd last very long. As a hospice patient, he was just on IV fluids. So, as I held my son for the first time, I cried that my dad was dying and hadn't even known I was in labor.
On Tuesday morning, as I prepared to be released from the hospital, my sister told me that the hospital had called - Dad had died. We never got to see him, never got to tell him, even if he wasn't conscious, about Max.
This has been the best and the worst of weeks. I'm not sure how I've made it through. But Max's sweet face has helped.