On Meeting Reene Parker

I want to share something Scott wrote after our first night home with Reene Parker...

I once stood with a client, who I knew was innocent, facing 30 years unsure whether his life would be ruined.

I drove 130 miles an hour in a busy interstate, and when I got up that high the car wasn't even close to slowing down.

I was in a car while raining with a drunk driver when the truck lost control and damn near plowed down a ravine and into a telephone pole.

I saw my closest friend wrestle a guy with a .44 magnum who was attempting to kill himself.

Those were some intense times.

None of which even came close to the intensity of Reene's birth. It was over in two pushes and for that I'm definitely thankful. A few minutes before her birth I prayed, “Don't hyperventilate. God just let me be here for Jennifer and her.” I told myself, “Calm yourself or you're going to miss the most important event in your life, you fool.” It was a rush of fear, jubilation, exhaustion, and anticipation all swirling at once.

And then she was there. “Here you go momma.”

JP: “But I don't know how to hold... OK!”

Right in front of me was Reene, not born more than ten seconds. My wife and I always agreed that we would not want the baby until he/she was cleaned up. How wrong we were.

Even after just being birthed, she was the most beautiful thing I have—ever seen. I really didn't know what to do with her in front of me and in the arms of Jennifer. I reached and touched her foot and it was as soft as a feather. It shocked me. And I kept rubbing it.

They took her to a heating unit about seven feet from my wife's bed to check her vitals, clean her up, and whatever else required. She lay there eyes wide open. I wanted to say something to her even though I knew she could not understand or probably even hear me. I just said, “H-hi.”

She looked right at me. A personality revolution occurred right then. And if I go on it will just get even more sentimental and cliché. Besides my evolution has been described perfectly already: When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 1 Corinthians 13:11

The first full day Reene was in our home began with me proudly coming into the bedroom circa one A.M.. SUPERDAD saved the day.

“Don't worry, JP, I got her to sleep.”

“You did.” She questioned. Jennifer wisely ignores my confidence. For whatever reason, I will feel 100% sure about things I am 100% wrong about. It is an annoying trait for everyone involved. “You got her asleep?”

“I swaddled, shushed, and swung her. I gave her ten minutes and put her in the crib. She should be good to go.”

“Well, Ok.”

And I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. We got this made. A hard days parenting was completed by my awesome parenting skills.

Or it had just begun.

“Would you please help me?” A physically exhausted Jennifer pled.

“The baby's crying?” I questioned, groggily. “Don't worry, I'll handle it.” Superdad, it's what I do.

“You have to, I've been up all night and she won't go to bed.”

Jennifer had spent all night trying to get Reene to bed, only to have her wake up and cry no more than ten minutes after being put in her crib. It was six o'clock, but to me it felt like it was 1:05. I slept through all the crying? What kind of superdad does that?

I spent the next three and a half hours swaddling, shushing, and swinging. I gave Reene her pacifier. I put her in her crib facing north, facing south, east, west. No more than ten minutes and she was wide awake. I fought through my body attempting to fall back to sleep.

Jennifer awoke around 9:30. We had to do something about this non-sleeping business. Strategy session time. Jennifer brought in the expert, Ya-ya who recommended we get her used to sleeping in the crib by putting her there anytime she fell asleep.

Great. We can probably both get a nap, too. Reene didn't have any trouble sleeping, but the moment we put her in the crib, a timer ran. We had no more than ten minutes and she would be crying for us. She had to be held. Again, my limited writing capabilities leave me without any words to adequately describe my frustration.

And then, it happened. I put her down—no swaddling, no swinging, no shushing, I just put her down, hoping I could get ten minutes to scarf down some chips and sausa and maybe feed the dogs.

Ten minutes rolled by. Shit, she must be dead. I tippy-toed to check on her. There she lay—what a sweet angle, by the way—with her eyes closed. Decision time: check her vitals and risk waking her up or assume she is sleeping and hope for the best... for a couple of seconds and then check her vitals. Naturally, I chose the first. She moved and still slept. Alright!

“She's sleeping!” I exclaimed.

“She is!” Jennifer shared my excitement. She could tell by my excitement that this wasn't my silly over confidence. “That's great, it's been fifteen minutes.

And we waited for the inevitable tears. Both of us argued so we could be the one to go get her when she did inevitably cry. I looked at my phone.

“It's been forty minutes.” I said. I got up.

“Don't check on her, you might wake her.”

“I... uh... but I want to.”

“Just leave her be.” She calmly said. Exactly one second went by, “Ok, check to see if she's breathing.”

And Reene was. Kick ass. Again and again and again, I checked and she was soundly sleeping. SUCCESS! I wanted to shout it from a mountain top. But I didn't have a mountain top I had a facebook profile. But, it did not stop there.

Three hours of crib sleeping later, Jennifer and I are sulking. How sickening is it that two badasses like Jennifer and myself desperately missed Reene because she was no more than 30 feet away in her crib for three freaking hours. Especially since we spent the whole day trying to get her to do just that.

We had been frustrated beyond my meager writing capabilities, yet I was actually longing for those tears.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 1 Corinthians 13:4. Paul left out that love is also pathetic... in the most extraordinary way.