My New Baby
By, Michael Landon
One hour. Just one short hour - that's all the time my wife Cindy and I had left to fulfill our dream of having our first baby by natural childbirth.
My dear wife had already suffered through half a day of labor when the doctor told us he could give us only a few more hours before he would have to deliver the baby by cesarean section.
Now five more hours had passed - and the baby still hadn't arrived. The doctor was looking really worried, and Cindy and I knew he wouldn't wait longer than one more hour. As I sat holding her hand, watching the pain sweep across her beautiful face, I was almost heartsick. I realized we were running out of time...
For months, Cindy and I had been training together for the birth, going to Lamaze classes and practicing the exercises necessary for natural childbirth. We had dreamed of having our baby this way. But after Cindy went into labor early on the morning on August 29, the baby just wouldn't arrive. Twelve hours later we were still waiting.
Cindy, with the pain of labor etched on her face, begged me: "Michael, don't let them give me a cesarean. We planned to have this baby naturally. I don't want our baby's life threatened by drugs and anesthetics!"
Together, Cindy and I pleaded with the doctor: "We're not going to ask for anything that will threaten our baby's life - but if it's possible, give us more time!" The doctor agreed to give us a few more hours. After that, he said, the baby's life might be endangered because Cindy's constant straining to deliver the child could injure it.
The operating room was only a few steps down the hall from the private room where Cindy and I waited at Los Angeles' Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. I prayed that Cindy wouldn't have to be wheeled down that hall.
As the hours dragged by, Cindy's labor pains became almost unbearable. It hurt me to see her in so much agony - but she bravely insisted on holding on for as long as the doctors felt it was safe. I don't think I've ever admired Cindy more, or seen her more beautiful, than during those long hours when she was courageously battling terrific pain to bring our child into the world.
I prayed to God that nothing would happen to Cindy or our baby. I knew she could only take so much before her life and the baby's life might be in danger.
As I sat beside her bed holding her hand, I thought of my two youngest children by my ex-wife - Shawna, 11, and Christopher, 8 - who were waiting eagerly in the room next door to see our new child. I had promised them that as soon as the baby was born they could meet their new brother or sister. They had waited patiently all day, their eyes gleaming with excitement. And bless them, they were still waiting.
The minutes kept ticking by. My mind wandered to thoughts of how overjoyed Cindy and I had been when we found out she was expecting our first child, and how we had sat night after night excitedly planning our baby's future.
The 16th hour of labor came and went. Still no baby. Cindy and I just looked at each other. We knew she had no more than 60 minutes to go before she would be wheeled into that operating room...
Suddenly Cindy was jolted by her worst labor pains yet. "Michael, call the doctor - I think it's happening!" she gasped. I yelled for the doctor. He and his staff rushed into the room - and confirmed our baby was indeed on its way! They hurriedly moved my wife to the delivery room where I helped Cindy with her Lamaze exercises as the pains quickened. And within minutes came the sound we were both waiting desperately to hear: our little baby girl's crying.
I thought: "This is what life is all about - babies and new beginnings." Then I gently picked up our baby - Cindy's first child - and thought how lucky I was that Cindy and our baby were both fine. Next, my two kids Shawna and Christopher came rushing in to meet their sister. I was bursting with pride when the nurses told me she was a bouncing 7 pounds 4 ounces.
Cindy and I already had our daughter's names picked out - Jennifer Rachel. Those names have always been favorites of mine from Little House on the Prairie. When new characters came on the show I often named them Rachel or Jenny.
Later, we learned that out of 15 babies born at Cedars-Sinai that night, 13 were born by cesarean section. We were so thankful that we didn't let Jennifer become no. 14. We certainly went down to the wire on her birth. I'm so proud of Cindy for having the determination to bear the pain until our baby could be born naturally.
Three days after her birth, Jennifer went home with us. She's a little beauty - and she's already brought a ton of happiness into our lives in just a few short days. I'm [almost] 47, and to have a new life to care for at this age is one of the greatest joys of my life. Cindy says people don't realize how wrapped up in themselves they are until they have a child, and it's true. We've found that we aren't the most important things in the world - our baby is.
Cindy is so thrilled that she hasn't stopped smiling since Jennifer's birth. She even smiles in her sleep. She says Jennifer looks like me. She definitely has my nose. But I think she looks like Cindy - she has my wife's big blue eyes and dark blonde hair.
When Jennifer wakes up during the night to be fed, it doesn't bother me at all to get up and change her diaper while Cindy feeds her. In fact, I really enjoy it. For all my children I want happiness, love and security. And for Jennifer, well, I want her to be happy with herself - whether she becomes the first female President of the United States or the mother of 10 children.
I plan to be more of a father to Jennifer than I was to my other children. The biggest mistake I made with the others was working too hard. I would get up and leave for work at 5 a.m. and often wouldn't get back home until they were asleep. There were too many weekends I spent in a dark editing room or on a sound stage when I should have been home with them. But that's all going to change with Jennifer. I'm not going to make the same mistake with her. I want to take time to sit and read to her or play with her.
The character I played on Little House, Charles Ingalls, has been known to do the wrong things at the wrong times - just like me. I've never tried to make him seem like a superman, any more than I've tried to be one. But, Charles, like me, felt his family was the most important thing in his life - and the same part in him that makes mistakes but also loves is in me.
Little House will be coming to an end after three specials over the next year, but for my family a new life is beginning. I know that real life is not a television script - but we're determined to write a happy ending for our family!
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