Birth

December 6th, 2023 – What’s with all the Olive Oil???

It was a relatively calm Sunday morning, at least as calm as it can be for a wife in labor. For the most part, there was a lot of waiting. And waiting. And… “Hey doc, it’s around lunch time. Do you think I have time to grab a bite to eat?”

“Oh yea, the baby probably won’t be here for at least a few more hours, so go ahead and run up to the cafeteria.”

“Ok, great,” I think to myself, as any normal man would having just been permitted to eat food. I make my way up there, and as I’m causally strolling through the café with a pizza-like pastry in my hand, “because why not? We have a couple hours to kill, so it’s not like I’m stressed. But wait, what’s this?” As I’m about to pay, my phone rings. It’s the doctor. “…Hello?”

“Hi Zack, the pregnancy is moving a bit faster than we originally thought, so no need to rush, but as soon as you finish your food, go ahead and come back down to the ward.”

“Sure, no problem. Again, not going to stress, just going to finish this pizza snack and head back down. I mean, you heard the guy, right? No need to rush. So no, I’m not going to—”

Not even a minute passed, and the doctor is standing in front of me. “Zack, the baby’s coming! We gotta go!” Apparently, things were changing at an exponential rate! Or the doctor’s wife, who also was serving as the midwife, had a word or two with him and made him act accordingly. But long story short, I scarfed my pizza down, ran to the ward, put my scrubs on, and got ready for prime time.

We’re working through the process, but 2:30 rolls around and my wife is in need of some extra motivation. “So, Zack says he’s going to buy you a new purse if the baby is delivered by 3:00,” the doctor says to my wife.

“Wait a minute… purse? Who said anything about a—”

“What kind of purse?” she asks.

“A Coach purse!” I quickly blurt.

“Did you say Channel?”

“No, I said Coach, A—”

“Oh my gosh, Channel, I can’t believe it!”

“No, not Channel, NO—hey, what’s with the olive oil? Why are you pouring it—JUST HOLD ON A SEC—”

So, at approximately 2:58 PM on October 22^nd, our daughter Teigan Hazel was born.

It wasn’t long before she was in my arms and I was doing my best to welcome her into the world. “You know who she looks like,” asked the doctor’s wife as I rocked her back and forth.

Suddenly, my heart stopped, and a cloud of anxiety grew heavy over my mind. “Oh no, please don’t say Rich… please don’t say Rich…”

“She looks like her father!”

“Phew!” Talk about a huge relief!” And Mike, I think she was right. I mean, I know my little dude’s a good lookin’ guy, but her. I can’t even!

And you know, at first when I discovered I was having a girl, I was a little worried, especially with all the bad boys in the world. But after seeing her face, I gotta say, I think I’m going to be all right. Just promise me that if anything happens or if I’m in need of a pinch, that you and Uncle Rich will be there to look after her! I mean, I am a little worried about her spending too much time with Rich, and God forbid, becoming a Cowboys fan. That would be one grumpy baby! But dang it, there aren’t that many men I trust in the world anymore, and if it came down to it, I know I could count on him!

But Mike, let me tell ya, she already knows! I think she’s asleep and ready for bed… nope! She wants to be in daddy’s arms. And I try to sit down for a short while… nope! She wants to be standing! She’s barely just a girl, but acting like a woman who knows what she wants and won’t settle for anything less! Pray for me!

And don’t worry, we’re still getting the little guy some love! Just last week, he got all dressed up for the embassy Halloween party! I think he came out pretty well too. Even snagged a picture with the ambassador and the second in command! Not bad for a 2 year old!

The holidays have been keeping us busy, trying to keep up with the little ones and all. Took a nice little trip to this place called Kalavryta, which I guess is where people go to ski in Greece, except you wouldn’t know it from the looks of the place. I mean, we’re getting to December and where’s all the snow?! At least the farm we stayed at was nice.

Oh, and our little one is starting to figure who this Santa guy is and what he brings to the table, so we’re trying to get him in the spirit a little early this year. They set up a Christmas village right after Thanksgiving, and well, all I can say is the Greeks don’t shy away from chaos! Regardless of the stress we went through, we had a great time.

And speaking of Santa… you guys remember what happened last year. I can’t lie, I’m getting a little nervous. I mean, there’s not many who can do the job like it’s supposed to and… well, I don’t want to spoil the mood for anybody, for we should be rejoicing!

So don’t be shy! For all his faults, our good buddy Rich would send me lots of updates. And I don’t want to say you’re slacking or anything, but you are Magic Mike after all, so I know you can make it happen!

Respectfully,

-Zack

Part 10: A Kalimera Christmas 2023!

Well, looks like Grizzly Chadams finally grew up a little bit and became a papa bear. To say the least, it’s been quite an adventure getting to this point, and having this been our first child, my wife and I had different thoughts as to how the birth would go.

She had it in her head that induction and labor would go a little like this:

While I certainly had my expectations…

Warning: Explicit Material

But 36 hours after the induction, this is pretty much what we got:

But low and behold, eventually a baby came out of the womb. And thanks to the nurses’ orders, good ol’ Grizzly Chadams got a front row seat for the entire ordeal. With that came several emotions, the first of which being, “Jesus Christ! That’s a giant baby!” I mean, I could see the top of the head, then all of a sudden, “WHAM!” Out came the rest of the body! “How in the world did that thing fit inside my wife’s body?!” Even she swore that by the end of it, the aftermath of his birth was going to look a little something like this…

Sorry, a little graphic, I know, but that’s what inevitably comes to mind after 3 hours of active pushing!

It didn’t take long however for a sense of fear strike through me. Right from the get go, I expected to hear a crying baby, just like the ones you see in the movies, something along the lines of a “Hey, what the hell, man? I liked it in there! Put me back!”

What I got instead was complete silence. The doctor’s sudden decision to deviate from my originally planned cord cutting duties was also cause for concern, coupled with the group of nurses hovering over the intensive care station, ready for action. And I’m sure in one of those “new parent” classes, they told me the baby would have a bit of a deformed head when it came out. But of course I forgot about that, and naturally, I panicked!

We were told during the whole process that the baby had Billy’s Ruben or something of the sort, and that he immediately needed to be placed on oxygen among other treatments. Now, I won’t like, upon first hearing this, I was a bit impressed. The fact that he snatched this guy Billy’s Ruben Sandwich had me swelling with pride. Right out of the womb and he’s already got the upper hand. “That’s my boy!” I wanted to shout. “Way to go little Z!”

Then, it got me all irascible. Like, “What the hell, Billy? What’s a grown ass man doing leaving such a fine cuisine out within snatching distance from a little baby boy?”

After further consultation from the doctor, it turns out that there was no Ruben sandwich, and apparently, it has nothing to do with a guy named Billy. Wikipedia may have had some answers, and a quick internet search revealed that it’s actually called “bilirubin” for some reason. I tried looking into it a bit more, but there was just too much scientific mumbo jumbo for me to make the connection (they talk about all these different chemical bonds and stuff, and you know I barely made it out of Organic Chemistry alive!). I’m just glad the little guy got out of it safe and sound.

But in those few of moments fear and confusion, where the health of my baby was in question, I was overcome with grief, if only for a moment. “What happens if he doesn’t pull through?” I thought. “All the work the doctors put in, the machinery to monitor my wife’s and baby’s status, the drugs to relieve the pain of child birth, the equipment required to induce labor, all the work my wife put in, the 36 hours of labor and 9 months of pregnancy and sacrifice that was made on her part all in preparation for this day… What if it was all for nothing?”

I got to think that because of his innate Grizzly bloodline, he pulled through with flying colors. But once the chaos settled, I was struck with a revelation. Up until then, a birthday was an excuse to party and an opportunity to score on some awesome presents (i.e. Nintendo 64 at 12 years old… I’ll never forget that one), along with a few milestones along the way. Age 13, you become a teenager and start getting hair in weird places. Age 16, you’re legally allowed to drive. Age 21, it becomes socially acceptable to drink alcohol, and so on and so on.

The moment I saw that baby in the flesh for the first time though, everything changed.

You see, we all started where he did, just a little human entering this enormous world, scared, confused, and utterly helpless. The smartest minds that had ever blessed this Earth, Einstein, Sir Isaac Newton, and Nikola Tesla, to history’s most renowned artists, Michelangelo, Shakespeare, and Mozart… all of them were in his exact position at one point in their lives… and all of em’ had a level playing field. Michael Jordan and my boy Aaron Rodgers? Those guys were babies once, small and feeble just like him before they became the greatest sports heroes of all time. And let us not forget all those great figures in American History who changed the world… George Washington, Honest Abe, Martin Luther King… Yep, they were all babies too.

And what about my man Kanye Freaking West, aka the greatest of them all?!?! He was there, cryin’, and burpin’, and poopin’ in his pants just like the rest of us! He had to go through the same ordeal, develop from a helpless infant with no means of self-support into the greatest of all time!

At one point in time, they were all just like my son. And just like them, he has a chance to change the world.

And how wonderful it is that we take time to remember that once each year? To remember the miracle of life and the blessing that occurred on the day of his birth? It turns out that a birthday is, and has always been, a much more significant day than I had ever realized, more so than I could have ever have imagined before the birth of my son.

And it was during that moment of respite in the hospital, after the silence and the scary thought that all had been lost, when I realized the opportunity before me. As his father, I have an amazing opportunity to shape him into the best person he can be. I get to watch him learn how to crawl, walk, talk, throw a football, do a kickflip on a skateboard, and grow into a man. And together, we get the opportunity to celebrate that all of that, year after year.

So, to my newborn son, I leave you with this…

Your birthday:

It is a day of remembrance. A day to reflect on nine months spent inside your mother’s womb. It is a day to remember the nurturing, hard work, and sacrifice that took place, all in preparation for your delivery. The hours spent in pain and labor, risking one’s life to ensure the sanctity of another. A day to remember, after all the anguish, discomfort, and sleep deprivation, the overwhelming joy of seeing your face for the very first time.

It is a day of triumph. That against all odds, you developed from a few cells into the person you are today. It is a reminder, a living example of the miracle of life.

It is a day of reflection. We reflect on your greatest successes, the lessons you’ve learned from your mistakes, and the times you fell, only to pick yourself back up again and continue the fight. We reflect on the person you’ve become, the progress you’ve made, and the endless opportunities ahead of you.

It is a time to remember that on that day, the world would be forever changed.

Your birthday… the day you entered the world. The day you forever changed our lives. A day of intense pain and depleted energy, exerted for the sole purpose of giving you life… a day to remember it was all worth it.

So, for that, we celebrate. Because above all things, the day of your birth is one worth celebrating.

Happy Birthday Zander Travis Andrews, born December 29^th, 2020. We look forward to celebrating several times in the years to come.