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Torrin James Mitchum

Born on September 15, 2006 at 02:29 in the morning, he arrived into the world with his eyes wide open.

He weighed 6 pounds and 13.5 ounces and measured out to 18 1/2 inches.

Kerry did an excellent job, even under the stress of a problematic child. Torrin’s heart rate decelerated several times during labor, the monitor giving the entire room a sort of mis-timed metronome feeling.

On some pushes, his heart rate stayed above the 130 beats per minute like it should. I believe, in music, this is an Allegro pace… lively and upbeat; however, on other pushes Torrin’s heart rate would drop to the 60’s and 50’s, slow for even an adult heart.

We were told during our pre-admission visit several weeks ago that only a scrub technician, a nurse and our doctor would be present during the actual pushing and delivery. Due to the circumstances, about 8 medical staff were present in the room nearly the entire time we were in delivery.

We kept our cool as best we could and Kerry went to work. The doc made every effort to speed along the birth, his heart rate, as represented by electronic beeps, clicking at about the speed a baseball card flicks the spokes of a bicycle wheel when idling down the road — sometimes going up a hill and slowing greatly.

I knew why I was sweating, and I think Kerry’s sweat went without question, but I remember feeling a little dazed when I saw the doc sweating.

You see, when labor started, Kerry started worrying about our son. She listened to the monitors, watched the nurse’s face for information and asked several times if he was going to be okay. That’s what moms do. They worry well ahead of time.

It’s why Kerry was taking prenatal vitamins, avoiding smokey areas, resisting even a sip of alcohol at every turn and walking with a nimble grace for nine months. She had been protecting this baby for months. The final moments of that gestational time seem to be the most threatening to every heed of caution taken.

I had a different worry. My entire family was on that bed, with a sweating doctor and medical staff tightly packed in around me. My nine months was spent worrying about Kerry and her safety. The baby was a dream to me, something I smiled about when my imagination went wild. The baby was Christmas or a birthday. Keeping Kerry safe was more like guard duty at a glass shop with a kindergarten class visiting on a field trip.

I won’t speak for Kerry, but I can’t remember feeling more scared at any other time in my life then right before Torrin was born, nor can I remember feeling any happier then the moment I saw him and Kerry were both safe and alive after he was born.