The Byford Files

The Ellison Post


Wake up. Stirred all night. Couple of things that absolutely need to happen this morning before we take off. Pack toiletries, snacks for me, take out the trash, clean the last dishes, empty the dishwasher and move the fish we’re taking care of into the kitchen so that Kool Aid can feed him. So tired. Slept like crap last night. Woke up at 02:30, 03:45 and then at 04:30. Departure time is 0540. Thinking I’m gonna wear my commemorative Tupac and Biggie shirt.


The water heater is spilling water into the utility room. Not a good development as we’re ten minutes from departure. I think I must’ve inadvertently hit some sort of valve release latch or something. It’s spilling out onto the floor. Who do I call? Guess we’ll just have to figure this out on our own. It’s spilling onto the floor. Not good. Not the kinda water I wanna see breaking this morning.


Water issue taken care of. Don’t know what I did, but appears it worked. Ugh. Must remember to get the wet towels put into the washer before they mildew. Sounds like a good job for a brother-in-law.


Already late. Awesome. Just now leaving. My lovely wife broke out the video camera on the drive to talk to Ellison on tape. I sang her “Happy Birthday” for her zeroth birthday. Surprised spellcheck didn’t pick up “zeroth.” Guess it’s official. It’s a word.


Dropped off Erin at the front door and parked the car. Went up behind her and took a wrong turn. Walked into the patients’ room side of the floor and walked up to the desk and said, “I think I beat my wife up here.” Two doctors behind the desk look at me with a blank awestruck look. I think they heard, “I think I beat my wife up.” Great. Good start to the day. The docs on the other side think I beat on my lovely wife.


Cassie, the nurse that got us hooked up to the I.V., has a daughter named “Ellison.” Yeah, no kidding. The lovely wife took the needles perfectly. Dilated at 1cm. Blood pressure looks really good.


Michelle Williams (“Dawson’s Creek”, yeah son), Hugh Grant, Adam Sandler, Henry Thomas (Elliott), Michael Keaton (Mr. Mom), Colonel Sanders (props to Bob) and Otis Redding’s birthday. Also Steev Myles’ birthday. Not really a dream team except for Otis and Steev. Cassie’s shift ended and Lindsey, the nurse that taught our childbirth class is handling us today. Familiar face. All going in the right direction at this point. Wifi located in this piece. Good deal.


First contraction. Pitocin seems to be working. Does for her what coffee does for my bowel movements. On an unrelated note, I went for a damned-good fiver last night with Mason. Last run as two-person, two-dog household.


Waiting on Dr. Miles “In a Silent Way” Davis to arrive. He’ll get in and break the water. Then we’re bed-bound. Contractions are coming often now. Good sign. Mom and SharShar are here talking. We got our predictions in on weight and time. I’m calling 7 pounds and 3 ounces and 17.5 inches arriving at 1423 hours. My lovely wife has predicted 7 pounds and 7 ounces and 19 inches arriving at 1919 hours. Sharon has predicted 7 pounds and one ounce and 21 inches arriving at 1505 hours. And Mom rounds out the predictions with a weight of 7 pounds and 5 ounces at a length of 18 inches arriving at 1545 hours. Miles Davis kinda looks like General Petreaus. Cooler under pressure though. If you see a man that looks like him, send him to Room 357. As in the gun. And 357 is divisible by three. Always a good sign for j3. Not that I’m really into numerology. I’m just obsessive.


Water officially broken. Dilated at 3cm. Dr. Miles “Birth of Cool” Davis in, out and off to the office. Will check back at noon. I’ll check back sooner.


No news is good news. Miles mentioned when he was leaving that we’re probably looking at about 8-10 hours. Doesn’t work too well for my time prediction. Erin’s doing awesome. Ellison’s doing awesome. Staff doing great. About to go for coffee.


BroBro’s predictions are in: 7 pounds and 5 ounces. Length of 18.5 inches. And arriving at 1947 hours. That’s later than my lovely wife’s prediction on the time. She says that’s no fair.


Got my first job in the delivery room. Activating Mr. Happy on my lovely wife’s back. Every contraction, I fly into action and apply counter-pressure on her back with Mr. Happy.I’ve been warned not to complain about my arm getting tired, but man, Erin takes quite a bit of pressure. It’s mostly shoulder action to leverage my weight. Mr. Happy…he do what he do. Contractions are fairly normal, but not quite where the nurse wants them to be. It’s kinda like watching some sort of seismologic metrics. I’m watching the charts. When it starts going up, I rise to my feet, put Mr. Happy to work, then sit back down. About every two minutes at this point. The frequency’s there, but the size of the quake not quite yet.


Moving a little faster now. Just had a pretty good contraction and dilated to 4cm at last check. Made the decision to move ahead with the epideral so Lindsey’s going to get us prepped up for insertion. Our highest rating on a contraction was about 45. That’s outta 100. So Lindsey’s getting the fluids up because the epideral will drop the blood pressure. This part’s gonna suck. Then it’s smooth sailing and pain relief from there on. Mr. Happy still in full effect.


Epideral is in place and starting to take hold. Pain came down from a “six” to a “four.” Contractions still at 40-45. Dad arrived. His predictions are 7 pounds and 0 ounces. A length of 18.5 inches and an arrival of 1705. That anesthesiologist was one smooth character. Named “Parker.” Another family name. Oh yeah, “Lindsey” is a family name…cousin. Lindsey and Parker. Miles “The Man With the Horn” Davis due in a few minutes to do his thing. Otherwise, Erin’s chatting more. Think that’s the pain med distracting her from the contractions.


Lindsey, who we believe to have an unfair predictive advantage has put in her guess on the Ellison’s vitals, put in her guesses. She predicted she’ll be 7 pounds and 4 ounces, 20.75 inches and arriving at 2005. Still no Miles. Dude puts in work.


Slowing down a bit. Ate lunch. Taco salad. It was kinda mexican. Actually, it was terrible. Let Erin sleep a little now that the medicine has kicked in and her contractions are fairly regular. Seemed that things were working pretty fast, but after Miles “Kinda Blue” Davis said just a second ago that she’s still at 4cm. She’s been pinned there since about 1045. Lack of progress on that front is frustrating. Miles said he’s gonna check back with us at 1700 to see on how she’s progressing and then we’ll talk options. Don’t really wanna go the c-section route, but know that it might be looming. Her family’s starting to make way into town at this point. Jacko was first. His prediction, just to make it public, is a weight of 8 pounds and 9 ounces, a length of 18.5 inches (same as my father’s guess) and an arrival of 1830. We’re about to eclipse by arrival time of 1423. Sonuva!


Bored in the waiting room. Gonna have to find a better way to pass the time. Something more productive. Mom’s crocheting booties. I’m recalling the time that Steev almost killed Gary Newburn on a Boy Scout summer camp in Post, Texas. We were all delirious from the heat and we hear from outside a tent, “Newburn, I’m gonna kill you!” followed abruptly by “Steven, put that down!” We open the flap of the tent to see Steev hitting stride with a hammer held over his head like Malachi in Children of the Corn about to put a hole in Gary Newburn, the adult of a kid in our troop. Steev breaks his path of destruction for a moment, chunks the hammer down to the ground and then runs off. We almost col’ witnessed a murder right there in broad daylight in Post, Texas. Steev’s a good kid. Always has been. But dude has his limits on the level of crap he can tolerate. A Newburn knew very little limit to the amount that he could dish out.

Back into the room to check on the lady. That’s a completely random story.


Bob predicts the laws of seven are in place: 7 pounds straight up, 17 inches long and 1907 (7:07PM).


Kathy predicts 6 pounds and 11 ounces, 18 inches long at 1915 hours. Mothership is sleeping. She busted a 53 on the contractions. That’s a new high. Nice bell curve contraction…long and steep. That’s the kinda projections we needed. We need a few of those quakes to open up that cervix. She’s sleeping. Keeping family out of the room to let her relax a bit. Will check the cervix in an hour. Whole lotta nothing at this point.


All but BroBro and Sarah (and Peyton) have arrived. They’ll be here before too long. Ellison’s really enjoying her womb time. Not really in a hurry. Lindsey said at last inspection that she could feel her head. Makes me wonder if Ellison felt how cold it was outside and decided to head to the back of the house. Lindsey just checked the cervix and looks like about a 5cm, but need to know what Miles thinks. Looks like we might be heading toward the c-section. Her contractions are decent (mad decent: one just hit 63, but probably should be more seismic than that) and rhythmic, but they’re just not dilating the cervix at all. Trying a new position. Trying everything actually. Could be that Erin’s body’s just not taking to it quite like we wanted. It’s alright, though. Miles will likely make the call when he visits in about a half hour.


C-section. We’ll holler on the other side. Pray for Ellison and Erin.


Ellison Jayne Wyrick has arrived. C-section went well. Erin and I talked about our first date, me rambling about music and how much it gets on her nerves, our Philosophy class together at Texas Tech meanwhile they made a nice incision under the watchful eye of Miles “The Man With the Scalpel” Davis. At 1825, we heard the boisterous scream of a little baby girl. She weighs 6 pounds and 7.8 ounces. Came in at a Chamberlain-ian length of 20 inches. She’s our beautiful girl. Wish I could go kiss on my wife a little but she’s in recovery now. She’ll be out before too long. She’s one helluva woman. Love that gal. Good jorb, baby!

I gotta be honest. I’m freaking tired. Long day. I’m out for a while. More news and pics later. Now, we can start raising Elle.


Officially, Jace was closest on time however, I don’t know how that scores being that it was a c-section. Anyhow, he was 5 minutes of at 1830 against an actual birth of 1825. Kathy was closest on the weight with a guess of 6 pounds and 11 ounces…only 3.2 ounces off. And Lindsey was closest on the length only off .75 of an inch with a guess of 20.75 inches.

I win nothing except an awesome life with little Ellison and my lovely wife. I drink your milkshake!


9 thoughts on “The Ellison Post

  1. Alix says:

    Good Readin’! Love the nicknames, and here’s a musical chestnut for ya- my first love is Jazz. I hope you’ve had headphones on “the mothership” these 9 months. Soon we’ll be needing a beddy-time Classical compilation.

    Hugs and Kisses too all.

    let me know what you find yourselves needing when you get back home, so’s I can send it to you as a gift.


  2. Ali P says:

    Good Readin’!
    I love the nicknames. I hope you’ve had phones on that “mothership” these last 9 months. Soon it’ll be time for a beddie-time Classical compilation.

    Kisses to all.

    Tell Jace what it is that you find yourselves needing when you get home, so’s I can send it to you as a gift.

  3. Leeann says:

    Congratulations you guys! We’re so happy for you! We’ll be in touch… rest, eat, sleep and enjoy that precious bundle. Call if you need ANYTHING!

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