I wrote the following piece when I returned home from the hospital after the birth of my oldest son Tommy, thirteen years ago this week (October 19, 1995). Yikes...we've got a teenager in the house.
The phone rang at the office. It was the very pregnant Bridget on the line. “I’m not sure, but I think my water might have broken.”
Like any rational adult, I went into a sitcom panic. “What do you mean, you think your water might have broken? Isn’t that usually accompanied by a huge swoosh of water?”
After we both calmed down (although now that I mention it, Bridget was pretty calm) we decided to swing by the doctor’s office and have him check. It was his day off and he conducted the examination over the phone with another doctor. The fluid was checked under a microscope.
Bingo.
Like any rational adult, I called everyone I knew and said “We’re going to have a baby!”
Of course, reality set in when we got to the hospital. The woman in the room next to Bridget’s was in her second day of labor. Later in the night we heard a woman screaming in such excruciating pain that we thought it was a baby crying. I knew right then and there that my beautiful wife would be numbing the pain with drugs. The more, the merrier.
I’m pretty sure that my mother set some kind of speed record from Mt. Prospect to Chicago in the middle of the afternoon. Bridget called her sometime around 1PM, and she was in the waiting room by 2PM. Apparently we weren’t the only ones anticipating the birth of this child....Oma wanted to be there when her first grandchild was born. As it turned out, she wasn’t.
After sitting there for eight hours with very little progress I sent her home. That’s when all hell broke loose. Bridget had to be induced, and almost immediately she started feeling intense pain. My memory banks have catalogued this beautiful moment between the anesthesiologist and my wife. It went something like this....
Dr: So, you think you need something for the pain?
Br: Yes, yes, yes....oooooh.
Dr: OK, we’re going to have to ask the father to leave the room for a moment.
Br: Groan. Groan. Groan. Groan. Groan.
(Rick leaves the room, returns 1/2 hour later)
Br: Oh, thank you doctor, thank you. I just wanted to really, really, really, really thank you.
We both knew we were in the home stretch then. Well, at least I knew. I’m not sure if Bridget even knew where she was for the next few hours. Thank God. It was so great to see the transformation from the really unhappy Bridget to the really happy Bridget.
It was now 2AM. Time to start pushing. They called Dr. Sabbagha. He checked out the goods and decided that we still had some time, so Bridget kept on pushing while the doc took a little nap. Molly the nurse helped us push. She held one of Bridget’s legs and I held the other and we coached her through each push. About every third push Bridget’s leg slammed me right in the family jewels.
Then I saw it....
At first I wasn’t sure what it was, Molly had to fill me in. It was the baby’s head. The hair threw me off. I didn’t expect to see hair, I was expecting to see a perfectly shaped bald (Michael Jordan-esque) head. But there was no mistaking it...the time was near.
Molly went to get Dr. Sabbagha, and told us we could keep pushing if we wanted. BIG MISTAKE. With her first solo try, Bridget grunted hard, and poof - there was the head...all the way out. I’m not sure what I said, but I think it went something like this....
“STOP. STOP. STOP. Holy Bleep.”
Molly came back in, saw the head and said...”Oh my God, we better get Dr. Sabbagha.”
He barely had time to get his gloves on before the event. Just a few moments later, at 4:06 a.m. we had a bouncing baby boy.
We didn’t even know the name of the baby when I called Mom up around 4:45AM. We hadn’t allowed ourselves to really put a lot of thought into a boy’s name, it just didn’t seem possible that we would have a boy. Bridget's entire family at the time consisted of nothing but girls.
Naming a child is one of the most awesome responsibilities a person ever faces. Our momentous decision was made something like this....
Rick: We need to come up with a name.
Bridget: It’s a boy. I can’t believe it’s a boy.
Rick: I guess the name Grace Anne won’t work now.
Bridget: Well, what do you think?
Rick: Let's name him after our fathers.
Bridget: I'm not naming him Eckhard or Stanley.
Rick: Fine, then let’s name him after our Dad’s middle names. Peter Thomas or Thomas Peter?
Bridget: I don’t know, I’m getting stitched up right now.
Rick: OK. Thomas Peter.
Bridget: Fine.
Most of our friends and relatives heard about Tommy on the radio. As a matter of fact, in one of the earliest broadcasting debuts in history, Tommy was on the air when he was 2 hours old.
The following is a transcript of that telephone conversation that morning. The participants are John Landecker (center), sidekick Vicki Truax (the only female in the group picture), and proud papa Rick.
John: Oldies 104.3 WJMK, It's 12 minutes after 6:00 with John Records Landecker and Vicki Truax. The hotline...the private line...is ringing. Hello.
Rick: Hello.
John: Well?
Rick: I'm a papa.
(Loud cheering and whooping in the studio)
Vicki: A girl or a boy?
Rick: A boy.
Vicki: I KNEW IT!!! What's his name?
Rick: Thomas Peter.
Vicki: What time?
Rick: 4:06 a.m.
John: Wow. How's everybody doing?
Rick: Everyone is fine.
Vicki: Bridget is fine too? Is she exhausted?
Rick: Yup, she's holding Thomas right now.
John & Vicki: Awwwww.
Rick: 7 pounds, 3 ounces.
John & Vicki: Awwwww.
Rick: And I recorded the entire thing on Digital audio tape.
Vicki: You're kidding? She didn't make you turn it off?
Rick: No. I had it put in a nice place where it didn't get in anyone's way.
John: We've got Thomas' birth on tape.
Rick: Yup. And we got his first bath on tape too, and his first cry.
John: Something tells me we better get more tape. OK, here's his first eyelid opening. Better get that on tape. We're going through his first toll...let's get that on tape. Hey Rick, don't you just want to...
John, Vicki & Rick: Hug and kiss them all the time?
(That was something Vicki said so often about her daughter it was a running joke on the show)
Rick: He is so damn cute.
John & Vicki: Awwwwww.
Rick: Wait a second...is he crying? Hold on.
Sound: A tiny baby cry can be heard.
John: Is that him?
Rick: Yup. His on-air debut.
John: Wow!
Rick: He's got some lungs on him.
John: That kid sounds like he's two years old.
Rick: Yeah, he's got good pipes.
John: Does he want to come in and do a few record talkovers?
Vicki: How long is he?
Rick: 21 inches.
John: So what was it like?
Rick: It was so cool. It was just like the movie "Alien." The baby kind of popped out and looked around. Then he jumped up and sucked my eyes out...
John & Vicki: (Laughing)
John: Then Siguorney Weaver came in with some sort of a mechanical device. It was unbelievable.
Vicki: You guys. Is he all wrinkly. Does he have hair?
Rick: Yeah, he does have hair. That was the first thing we saw. I asked the nurse...ewww...what is that? That's his hair. Oh.
John: Did you get it on tape?
Rick: Of course. Uh, oh. I have to go. We need to take Bridget up to the recovery room.
Vicki: You're still in the delivery room?
Rick: Yeah.
Vicki: That's dedication.
John: How many calls have you made so far?
Rick: This is my second call. I called my mom first.
John: Wow. Well take care of everyone.
Rick: Thanks.
John & Vicki: Bye.
John: There they go. Dad Rick, Mom Bridget and now Thomas Kaempfer.
Vicki: I kind of liked the other name Rick was talking about before.
John: I don't think Bridget was ever going to agree to Ringo.
