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Luke Kenneth Foster joined us 12 April at 3:44pm! Six pounds, twelve ounces and nineteen inches long. Long and lean just like his...Dad?

It was like you read about. For those of you haven't experienced it, the cliches are cliche for a reason. For those of you who have, you know how great we're feeling right now. Both mother and son are exceptionally healthy, and both of them seem to know what to do to survive.

Labor is an understated term for what it takes to bring a being into the world. Libby's labor started sincerely at midnight on the 12th. The doctor sent us home saying, "Come back when the contractions really hurt." Of course, as soon as we got home, they really hurt.

From about 1am until 3am, I took sixteen five-minute naps--between Libby's screams. In those two hours dilation went from one centimeter to six centimeters. We were in business, and the hospital let us stay. About two hours later, she was at eight centimeters. Progress was exceptional.

Unfortunately, the doctor broke her water shortly thereafter. That seemed to cause Libby a lot more pain, and, maybe because of the pain or maybe because we disrupted nature's course, labor stalled. Four hours later she was still at eight centimeters.

The pain of the contractions without the cushion of the water wore her out. She had managed the pain exceptionally through breath control up to this point, but fatigue set in. The uncertainty of how much longer the labor would last caused her to opt for the epidural anasthesia.

Eureka! She was feeling much better with drugs :-) Labor was still stalling after an hour or so, and the doctor introduced contraction-inducing petocin. It was tricky setting up the dose to time the contractions. Looking back, I don't think either of us would have opted to force the labor by breaking the water so early, then getting the epidural, which caused the need for petocin.

Hindsight is 20/20, and while there were some (typically, I imagine) scary moments. Luke came out with barely more than a peep. He was wide-eyed and looking around. Libby immediately sat back to have a look at the boy. When she did, the umbilical cord went taut causing a quick reprimand from the doctors. I made the cut, and went after the little miracle.

Luke was exceptionally aware and active. He made me laugh and cry for ten minutes straight. He was so calm it was shocking. He has remained that way thus far. He didn't have a real cry for the first three days. He still mostly squawks and fusses if his needs aren't met, but he is truly perfection.

From my perspective, the miracle of birth is that a newborn is a perfect being. They have "accomplished" nothing, and yet, they are love. They are perfection. It's a great reminder for someone very close to me who occasionally thinks his value is determined by his accomplishments. (That person would be me for those who don't recognize my sarcasm.)

I'm sure I could write for days and not convey exactly any of the emotions we experienced so I will leave you with that.