WORDS CAN'T EVEN COME CLOSE...

Wow...where do I even begin?

How about the beginning...

We showed up at Labor and Delivery on the fourth floor at Hendrick Medical Center this morning a little after 5 AM. Our bags packed. Our fears repressed. Our hopes high.

12 hours later - a little after 5 PM - a beautiful baby girl was brought into the world screaming like a wild animal. Haelyn Avery Rogers.

To say that today was like a roller coaster would be like saying running towards a nuclear explosion would cause some minor burning on the flesh.

Nurses first hooked Jenn up to the baby monitoring machine to keep an eye on Haelyn's heartbeat and Jenn's contractions. You get very familiar with this machine over the hours of your labor experience.

Funny thing was that the machine was showing contractions - only Jenn wasn't feeling them at all.

One of the hardest parts of the day was trying to find a vein to cooperate with the IV needle. Two different nurses (bless their hearts) blew three different veins in Jenn's arms before they finally got one to stick in her left hand.

That made the 15 foot epidural needle that much easier to handle...(sarcasm)

Jenn handled it like a champ though. Shaking like a leaf while the anesthesiologist found the space between her vertebrae, she focused on deep breaths and willed her way through the ordeal. And that ordeal made the rest of the day a tad bit easier.

I nearly passed out watching them blow her veins. Being awake was my main goal for the actual delivery.

With how fast she was progressing, we had an indication that we could have a baby by noon. We mentally prepared ourselves accordingly.

It was rather quiet and lonely for the first couple of hours. Our nurse asked lots of required questions like if Jenn was allergic to anything or had AIDS (she thankfully said no to that one).

But the loneliness soon disappeared. We had lots of support. My parents, Jenn's parents, my brother, sister-in-law and niece, Jenn's brother and Granddaddy, Gramps and his wife. An entire support system to help us through the day. I don't know how anyone goes through this experience without one. Truly a blessing. Thanks guys.

But it wasn't just the ones in the room. My brother and sister-in-law in New York. All of our other family and friends sending texts and calling throughout the day. It's a little overwhelming when I realized how many people care about us and love us.

Most everybody was in and out of the room from about 7 AM until the nurses kicked everybody out a little before noon.

I prepared for the action to start. Turned off the computer. Got our bags repacked and organized. Put on my lab goggles and latex gloves. Pulled on my leather boots.

So Jenn continued to progress and we waited.

And noon came and went. And we waited.

Then they said sometime before 2 PM. And we waited.

And she was fully dilated. And we waited.

Waiting for the "urge" to hit Jenn. The one that makes her feel like something or someone wants to get out...now.

But it never came. And it never came. And we waited some more.

During one of the "checks" the nurses discovered that Haelyn was face down. Not good. The nurses were a little concerned.

No worries, though, because Dr. Tadvick (aka Super-OB) came in, took one look at the situation, made a couple of whisking motions with his hands, some smoke wafted over the bed, a rabbit jumped out of a hat, and she was face down.

Problem averted.

So at 3:45 PM, Jenn was completely ready to start pushing but didn't feel like she needed to push. So we started pushing anyway. Everyone was tired of waiting.

Everything looked great and we were told that we'd have a baby in 30 minutes! Good news.

But after 15 minutes of pushing, we were told that no progress had been made and we needed to prepare ourselves for a C-section.

The roller coaster was becoming less and less fun and more and more frustrating.

Jenn was pretty upset about C-section possibility. She wanted to try and avoid this outcome if at all possible. We were left alone in the room and cried together. I tried to tell her that everything was going to be fine. She was just upset that we had done "all this work" and would end up having to have a section.

So we were ready for Dr. Tadvick to come in, confirm our disappointment and roll Jenn away.

But that's not what happened.

Dr. Tadvick (aka Super-OB) took one look, said we weren't going to do a C-section and before you could say "But I don't even like that lamp" he had forceps in his hands, told Jenn to push and was holding a goopy, angry, wrinkly baby.

One hour and 20 minutes after we (or should I say, Jenn) started pushing.

And just like the title of this post says, words can't even come close to describing what that event is like. I could sit here for years reading a dictionary and not find the right way to describe it.

I do know one thing, though. My wife is an unbelievable, amazing, strong, determined and powerful woman.

I saw deep into her soul as I watched her prepare for, execute and recover from the pushes. A truly amazing physical phenomenon. Far more difficult than anything I've ever done or will ever do.

I think that all men should be whipped with barbed wire while they stand next to their laboring wives so we have some perspective on what is going on with them. The way it is now, all I can do is stand there like a nincompoop and complain about my cold toes.

She pushed and strained that baby out of her when it looked like there was no way it could happen.

She pushed for about 45 minutes before stopping and mentally preparing herself for a C-section. Then she had the grit and will to start it all up again and give birth to our daughter.

I can't imagine not being married to her.

And my wife is a professional. She's an associate professor for crying out loud. But seeing her pushing and straining for our daughter, for our family, gave me a very unique and rare look into her true being as a woman.

She was in her element. Beautiful and rugged. Strong and meek. Enduring and human.

And when that baby came out, I changed forever.

You hear that it's an awesome experience, and you can't wait to stop hearing people tell you that "you're life is about to change," but I know have a new side to me.

A side that loves a tiny little, blubbering, wrinkly, screaming, (and to be honest sort of old-man looking) baby more dear than my own life.

And watching that baby be wrapped up and placed in my wife's arms was a somewhat out-of-body experience.

Jenn was exhausted but looked absolutely radiant. She was in great pain but showed signs of peace and tranquility. At that moment she was the most beautiful I have ever seen her with my own eyes or in my dreams. I couldn't take my eyes off her and will remember her in that moment every day for the rest of my life.

She was in her element. Her complete and utter "womanness" on display for the few lucky people in that delivery room to see for just those few short minutes.

A woman. A mother. A wife. Perfect.

I bought her a locket with Haelyn's name engraved on it. Before today I thought it was an appropriate "push present." But after watching her "push" I felt a little foolish for only getting her a necklace.

She deserves much more.

She deserves love, adoration and respect.

She deserves to have her husband help her around the house without being asked.

She deserves to have lots of money spent on her for clothes, spa treatments, massages and shoes. Lots and lots of shoes.

She deserves to be pampered whenever and however possible.

And after today I've realized that she deserves much more than I could ever possibly give her in a lifetime.

So all I can do is try and be the best dad and husband I can be every day. It's not much, but it's the least she deserves.

And words will never be able to describe how much I love my wife and baby daughter tonight.

Words can't even come close...