My wife has impeccable timing. Over a month ago, she was talking with her mom, Phyllis, about her mom coming to visit for the new baby. Obviously, we didn't know when the baby would arrive, but Phyllis had to buy plane tickets before the airlines boosted prices. The two of them settled on the weekend before Lorein's due date (March 15). Phyllis arrived last Thursday and was a huge help cleaning and shopping and creating and quilting and just getting everything ready for the baby. Come Sunday, however, we were a little discouraged because Lorein wasn't having any contractions and it looked like the baby wouldn't come before Phyllis had to leave Tuesday evening. I was especially bummed because I've been worried about the logistics of this pregnancy ever since I learned we would have to deliver at Wilford Hall Medical Center on Lackland AFB. For those of you unfamiliar with San Antonio, Lackland is in the southwest part of the city, while we live in the northeast. In other words, it would be hard to find a place in San Antonio farther from us than Lackland. It takes 45 minutes to get there on Saturday morning with no traffic. I was super worried about Lorein going into labor during rush hour and it taking us an hour and a half to drive down there. I was also worried about what to do with Carter. If we had to make a late night drive to the hospital, who would watch Carter? Would he freak out if we weren't there? I was really, really, really, really, really hoping the baby would come while Phyllis was there. So, like I said, we were a little down but putting on a brave face.
We planned a picnic at Ft. Sam for Monday's lunch so Phyllis could see the post. When they arrived for lunch, they told me Lorein had been having contractions since about 11:00 that morning. I was excited because not only did it mean Phyllis might be there to save us major hassle, but I would also get to leave work early. After lunch, I went back to the office, tied up some loose ends, left, and got home around 3:00. Phyllis and Lorein were timing her contractions and they were about 45 seconds every few minutes. This alarmed me because that was the timing for when she had Carter -- she never made it to that magic one minute, one minute, or whatever it is. Because of the contractions, the belief (myth as it turns out) that second labors are about half as long as first, and the looming rush hour, I wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible. I finally convinced Lorein and she labored in the back seat of the truck for the 40 minute drive (we hit no traffic, and I drove fast). The only snag was when we got to the base and the gate guard told her she had to put her seat belt on. This is ironic since the gate is literally right outside the hospital. Had he really never seen a woman in labor going to the hospital before? I told him she was in labor and we drove on without him offering a response.
At the hospital, Lorein did NOT want to go inside. She wanted to walk around forever, or at least until she was sure she was ready to pop. Again, we timed the contractions and they were about 45 seconds every two minutes. This persuaded me she
was about to pop, and I convinced her to head up to the birthing center. On the way, she told me that if she was only a 6, she was going to kill me.
We went up to the birthing center and were told to wait. We waited for about an hour before we were put into a little curtained partition to (again) await the doctor. After being in there for about a half hour, the doctor came in and checked her (this was about 6:30). She was at a 5. Lorein did not kill me, although she did give me a very dirty look. Really though, she had no justification for killing because she said she would kill me "if she was only a 6," and she was only a 5, so she didn't even meet her own standard for murder.
We were admitted to a delivery room and Lorein labored and labored. I won't go into the details because I know none of the men reading this care. Maybe one of you ladies can convince Lorein to tell her story and then you'll know, but it won't come from me. Suffice it to say that Lorein finally had Caleb Vincent Crall at 2:05 in the morning and that he weighed 8 lbs. 7 oz. Oh, and that he was born on March 15 -- again, impeccable timing.
As for the name, "Caleb" because we like it, "Vincent" for
Vin Scully, and "Crall" because that's our last name. Caleb was a name we'd always liked, but I originally nixed it because it starts with "Ca" just like Carter. We just couldn't come up with another name we loved, though. There were a lot of names that we thought were ok, but we couldn't nail one down. A few weeks ago, I decided that, who cares, we like Caleb so we're going for it. We also kept with our motif of using the middle name to conjure up somebody we like. Lorein chose Archie for Carter because Archie Goodwin is one of her favorite literary characters. I chose Vincent for Caleb because Vin Scully, simply put, makes me happy. Hearing him say "Welcome to Dodger Stadium, and a beautiful [insert day of the week here] to you, wherever you may be" is like dunking me in a seratonin bath. Besides, if you're gonna have an "Archie," you might as well have a "Vinny" too.
Carter was very excited to see the new baby. We've been reading books about families with new babies for the last couple of weeks, so we were hopeful he would be accepting of the new influence in his life.
What really sold him, though, was the fact that Caleb got him a present. Carter played with that train the entire rest of the day. This morning, he woke up and immediately went at it again. When I asked him where the train came from, he said "My baby brother Caleb. He got it because he loves me. And I love him too." Nice choice Caleb!
Again, huge thanks to Phyllis for all her help. She made my life approximately one bazillion times easier.
And, although he likes Caleb, Carter still wants to show him who's the coolest dude around.
