I want to dedicate this entire three part series to Trista Pirtle-Bond, the Godmother to Liberty Sarai, and the single person who kept both me and India from falling apart during the hospital stay.

Trista, I know we never sent you a thank-you card or letter for all that you did for us, but I personally want you to know that you helped me and India more than you'll ever realize.  If you weren't there, I don't know what we would have done.  From the bottom of my heart, I thank God that you were put in our lives.

Up to this point (walking to the nursery with Liberty Sarai), the hospital stay has been alright, except for the first-time father worries, and the wifey being in pain.  Up until now, our family life was getting under way.  We were going to raise a beautiful little girl through infancy, walking for the first time, first day of school, getting the drivers license, and off to college.  That's what I was thinking for the next couple of hours.  Then it all changed.

When I got to the nursery, they did the typical 'new baby' things: weighing, measuring length, taking blood for blood sugar, and giving her a bath.  At this time, around 10pm, things are going well.  Every few minutes, I think about how long it's going to take for India to get out of surgery (probably around 11-11:30pm), but for the most part, I can't take my eyes off of Liberty.  Her shrill cry was music to my ears.

I forgot about what time I started thinking to myself, 'It seems like it's been a while, I wonder if India's done yet.', but I think it was around the time she was supposed to be done.  Around this time, I texted Trista to find out if she had any updates.  After a couple of exchanges, she eventually told me that the midwife had told her that India was in surgery longer than usual because there were complications with the post-op.

I didn't know what to think.  My wife, who just had our only child, is having COMPLICATIONS?  But then, the words that shook me to my very core was what Trista texted me right after that.  Trista, the rock that held us all in check for the previous 28 hours, sent me this bone-chilling message: 'I'm not gonna lie, Eli, I'm scared.'  For her to say that, was to admit that something bad was going to happen.

After going out a little later to try finding someone, since I hadn't had an update in a while, I run into our midwife, who said that after they had sewed India up, something started bleeding, so they had to open her back up to stop the bleeding.  Well, the bleeding was still going as of that conversation, and they still hadn't figured out what was causing it.  She got my phone number and said she'd call with any further updates.

This is where the story goes sour.  About fifteen minutes (I don't know really, but it wasn't too long) later, our midwife called me.  She proceeded to tell me that the source of the bleeding was almost certainly coming from her uterus.  And the kicker?  If it is the uterus, then they may have to remove it to save her life...

The second she said that, the 28 hours of hell that we had been through just came pouring out.  I couldn't control my emotions at that point.  The woman on the other end of the phone told me that my wife may DIE, without getting to hold our daughter, and us never getting to see her again.  What she was telling me was, that they POSSIBLY save her life by taking her uterus, but it wasn't guaranteed to work.  She could very well die even if they did that, so it was very scary.

Ok, now maybe about an hour later, after much crying, many soaked tissues, and thinking about what it would be like without India, being a single father, and burying my wife, I had some visitors.

Two people I had not seen yet in the ordeal, one of the surgeons and a nurse, came in to see me.  They walked up to me, somber faces and all, asked if we talk in private, and took me to a random room in the nursery.  The way they were walking, talking, and acting, I feared the worst.  When they started talking, and didn't immediately say 'Your wife is fine', I started trembling.  I never knew people could actually tremble when trying to get news, but it happens.

BUT, they told me that the surgery was over, India was awake, and oh yeah, we weren't able to have anymore kids by India.  They took out her uterus.  I couldn't care less at this point though.  I now had a healthy baby girl and a wife that I would be able to see again.  They said there was still a risk for infection, and that her kidneys and liver were at risk, and that she had lost between a third and a half of her blood during surgery.  When someone loses that much blood, they're not supposed to make it.

Not too long after that, I got to go up to the ICU to see her.  She had tubes coming out of every part imaginable and could barely talk, but once again, she was in front of me, alive.  Every doctor that I had talked to on the way up to the ICU had told me that India didn't know what they had to do, but when we finally got the doctors out of the room, the first thing she said was 'So, did they tell you what they had to do?'.

We talked for a few minutes, the doctor came in to give her a dose of Benadryl to sleep, and as I was showing her pictures of our baby girl, the Benadryl kicked in.  So, I kissed my baby, went down to the nursery to kiss my other baby, and went to sleep in the new post-partum room.

Now, that's the end of the hospital story for the most part.  I will tell what happened in the following four days, our last in the hospital, in future articles, but for right now, just know that Mama, Baby, and Daddy are healthy and happy.

Maybe as a reader, you're thinking to yourself, 'I've read all three parts, and you kept talking about the ending being one of the worst things imaginable, but it really wasn't, everyone's fine'.  Well, maybe it comes off as being overly dramatic, but the fact is, my wife is 25 years old, lost her uterus, almost died after having only one child, and leaving me a single father.

But I couldn't be happier with the results.  Vanderbilt and God saved India's life, and that will be another article by itself.  I have to give proper thanks.

That is nowhere near the end of the saga of Liberty Sarai, India Jihan, and Clayton Eli Rogers.  It's only the beginning.  Liberty is four months old now, and I have lots of stories, so stay tuned, subscribe on Blogger.com at DadToLibbs.com, and wish me luck in fatherhood.  I couldn't be happier.

Remember, in part one of this article, I said ‘The real fun starts with part two of the article’, well here goes.

Have you ever felt just so helpless, you wanted to cry? I think the first time I felt that in my life was when my wife was getting the epidural after 12 hours of intense pain. They had her sit up on the bed, which at this point was like telling her that she had to get up and run a marathon. I don’t know exactly what they do back there, but they wouldn’t let me watch them put the thing in. They also wouldn’t let me be next to her so she could squeeze my arm as needed, or any comfort from me.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, with a nurse trying to keep her sitting up straight, the anestheliogist did what she had to do. The whole time, which was only about 10 minutes, India was groaning and wincing in pain. That killed me. I couldn’t do anything for my wife, who was in so much pain, hungry, and exhausted.

So, hiding it as best I could, I shed a few tears, and kept in my wanting to burst out crying. Eventually though, it was over. She laid back down, had pain medicine running through her body, and had an extra button she could push every few minutes to get extra pain killer.

For the next 10-11 hours, we waited to see if India would dilate enough to have the baby naturally. During that time, it was just a bunch of waiting, pushing the button, trying to rest a little (all three of us), and eating very little. I remember trying to get a little sleep, and getting woken up around 7:30pm or so by a little commotion in the room. The midwife that just took over the others’ shift had come in, checked India, and come to the realization that we might have to do a c-section.

Of course, we didn’t want one, and the midwife said she’d do everything possible to make it happen the way we wanted. After checking India one more time, to be sure it was feasible or not, she told us that India had dilated one more centimeter, but only because Liberty’s head had swollen a little bit. She gave us a few minutes to discuss it by ourselves, but we both knew it had to be done, and the midwife knew what she was doing.

After getting India prepped as much as they could in the room, they took her to the operating room. I had to sit and wait with Trista until they come back to get me. Maybe about 30 minutes later, they came back, got me dressed up in the full body scrubs, mask, hair thingy, and shoe covers, and took me to the operating room.

If you put a gun to my head and told me that you would shoot me dead right there unless I could show you where in Vanderbilt Hospital the operating room is, I would be out of luck. I got walked back to the o.r. by Lisa (our midwife), and some poor soul who I can’t even remember. Maybe it was Lisa’s understudy. I don’t know. Anyway, back to the task at hand.

I walked into a bright white room, saw my wife lying on a table with her hands and lips shaking uncontrollably, and I would have to guess about 10 people standing around getting ready. I don’t know what I said to India, but I know it wasn’t a lot. When it comes to being supportive talker, I’m not the greatest. But we did talk. She told me she was freezing and I think that she was scared.

I just sat there listening to the people get ready, and just like that, we were under way. All I remember hearing is suctioning and the doctors talking. A few times, Lisa and the anestheliolist would ask if she was ok, and let her know that she was about to feel a lot of pressure.

Well, it seemed like it took closer to an hour for them to get done, but I think it took all of less than 10 minutes. When they tell you that you’ll feel pressure, I believe it. India was doing fine until they said that, then she barely could breathe because of the pressure.

Just as soon as it began, though, it was over. All of the sudden, I heard three short little whimpers, and that’s all it took. India and I lost it. As soon as I heard those sounds, I couldn’t control the crying. India and I kissed, then they said I could look over the curtain. I did, of course, and remember vaguely seeing Liberty, and I’m sure there were other things I could’ve seen, but I blocked it out. My little girl was finally here.

They quickly took her to a table in the corner, wiped her off, and whatever else they do to 30 second old babies, then brought her over to us to see together. India kissed Liberty on the face about 10 times, and they took her back to the table again to wrap her up. Then I got to hold my baby girl and take her to see her Mama again.

They literally, after a short minute, told me to go to the nursery with Liberty, so they could weigh her, etc., and so they could fix India up. Before I left, I’m pretty sure I gave her a kiss. That’s where the story goes from happy happy joy joy, to being a horror story for the next 16 hours. That almost was the last time I ever saw my wife, and the first AND last time my wife got to see and kiss her only baby.

Research confirms that the benefits of healthy father-daughter bonds result in decreased rates of promiscuity, substance abuse, dropping out of high school, image obsession, depression and even suicide.

To strengthen communication and enhance time spent together between daughters and their dads, the National Center for Fathering has pulled together the finest resources to provide a day where fathers and teen/adult daughters can confirm, celebrate, and in some cases initiate their bond. We call this day the Father-Daughter Summit. Our fourth Nashville Father-Daughter Summit will be held Saturday, September 11^th at Hendersonville Church of Christ, where it is anticipated 500 fathers and daughters will participate.

“Daughters and dads are often surprised how meaningful this day is together and the progress they make at the Summit. Once they come, they want to come again! This is actually why we are returning to Nashville. Our local chairman, Brian Stanley, attended our first Nashville Father-Daughter Summit at Lipscomb University in 2006. He and his daughter wanted to return, so he called to find out when our next Nashville date was. When I shared that we needed a local chairman to lead the way, Brian signed on to chair the event for the city!” shared Lucy Bloom, Director of the Father-Daughter Summit.

Titans Assistant Head Coach Craig Johnson served as the host and emcee for the kick-off luncheon where fifty leaders representing churches, schools, local businesses and community organizations gathered to meet with Carey Casey, CEO of the National Center for Fathering about the upcoming Summit.

The Summit will be held at Hendersonville Church of Christ on September 11 from 9:30a.m. to 5:00p.m. The minimum age for daughters is 11 years old. Pre-registration is encouraged and available at www.fathers.com/summit.

The Nashville Father-Daughter Summit is being sponsored by The Memorial Foundation and Solomon Builders.

I am an unfit parent. Our first child is just mere days from being born, and I can already say I'm an unfit parent.

Now, what do I mean when I say I'm an unfit parent? Not that I'm a horrible parent, but a fat one. I won't know I'm an unfit parent until Liberty is 17 years old and yelling, telling me she hates me. So for now, the moniker just means I'm simply fat.

It's an 'epidemic' that's hit all across America, and nothing can slow it down except for the will of the people. To give you a visual, I'm a somewhat short 5' 6” (more like 5' 5 ½” tall), and weigh, get this, 250 lbs, & I just turned 27 years old. Yes, it's sad. I haven't been this way for a very long time, just lately.

But how can I call myself a good parent if I am at risk of dying from heart failure at 30? Simply put, I can't. My problem is, I'm lazy. That's how, in just about 3 ½ years, I've gained 50 pounds of nothing but fat. And 10 years ago, I weighed about 160. I know it takes discipline, but I just don't have it.

What made me think harder about this subject, and ultimately write this article on it, is when the midwife that we go to told my wife that for the last couple of weeks of her pregnancy, she should not eat fast food. Or anything we don't make at home or buy from a store. One specific quote I remember is “I don't care if you make a big hamburger and fries at home, it's ten times better than buying the same from McDonald's, etc.”.

You see, the wifey's feet and calves started getting real swollen. Not just 'pregnant woman' swollen, but, well, just big. From one visit a few weeks ago, to the very next week, the midwife said that she gained a whopping 12 pounds in nothing but fluid in her legs. TWELVE POUNDS. And they said that eating food outside the house a lot, like we have been for the past couple of months, is horrible for swelling.

So, anyway, the point of the story is, I really want to lose weight, and maybe gain some muscle. Now, the conundrum is, while I'm sure there are plenty of nutritionists and trainers out there in Murfreesboro, it's hard to find one.

I've got an idea. Why don't we make this like a 'Biggest Loser' type deal, where I get a trainer and nutritionist, and at the end of my weekly 'First Time Father' blog on HobNobMurfreesboro.com, I give updates on my progress? If anyone can help, knows anyone who would like to help, or would like to be part of this 'keep Eli alive for the life of his unborn child' project, please let me know. My email is This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .

And since I know I'm not the only 'un-fit' parent, why don't you make a commitment with me. It'd be great to have some support.

Until next time, wish us luck with the upcoming labor and birth. Maybe by my next article, I'll have stories of bringing Liberty home, diapers, and staying up forever...

Desperation.

That's what I WANTED to write about in this entry to my 'First-Time Fathers' blog series. I was in the middle of writing about being jobless for over 8 months with a baby on the way, I ended up getting a job out of the blue.  Come visit me, won't you?

But, seeing how there ARE other father-to-be's that STILL don't have a job, I'll convey my feelings of being unemployed, as I know plenty about the subject.  The economy today is in shambles.  I guess that's not a surprise to anyone not living under a rock.  And I'm not trying to be political here, I'm just saying, when you're unemployed in an economy like this, it hits even harder.

India is now just over 30 weeks pregnant.  It flies by, but goes slow at the same time.  It's hard to explain, but it does.  To put it in perspective, I've been unemployed since 2 months before we found out she was pregnant.  I wasn't too worried about it early on in the pregnancy, but the closer to the due date it got, the more silently worried I got.  Can an unemployed 27-year-old man support a 25-year-old mother of one?  I knew that I wouldn't go the rest of my life and not get another job, but after 5 or so months, it started feeling like it.

By the grace of God, however, out of the blue, I got a call one night last week from a former employer asking if I could work 3^rd shift again.  I jumped on the opportunity after asking India if it was alright to leave her at night, and of course, after 8+ months with no secondary income, she emphatically said 'YES!!'

Well, the point is, now Liberty is going to have all the diapers, wipes, clothes, toys, etc that she needs/wants, at least for right now.  India always said she appreciated me taking care of the house while I was unemployed, but I guess there's something in a man's brain that tells him he needs to provide for his family.  Especially when he knows he's going to have a baby.

But now, I'm providing for my family, and that couldn't make me feel better.

Now, I'm wanting to hear from the first-time Dads, seasoned Dads, and even the Moms out there, seeing how your holiday is coming up.  I want to hear crazy, heartfelt, and/or funny stories, as well as tips from all of you.

You can leave a comment on here, email me at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it , or visit my Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/elirogers.

I hope to hear from a lot of you.  And let me know what you want to read in my series of blogs.  I would love to get my first feedback from anyone.

4D Peek of Nashville Review

After our last ultrasound by the doctor appointed tech, we were told that we weren’t going to get another one done in this pregnancy, unless something went wrong.  Well, after getting our last ‘official’ u/s done at just 20 weeks, I wanted more.

There are two 3D/4D ultrasound places in or around Nashville.  There’s ‘Focused Imaging’ that is in Nashville, and the one we went to, ‘4D Peek’ in Franklin.  I’ll just get the gist of the review out of the way now just in case you don’t care: India and I did NOT like it.  I’ll probably give it a 3/10.

On to the actual review:  Looking on the site, you probably almost expect a posh boutique somewhere in ‘uptown’, but that’s not the case.  It’s basically in a strip mall, like the one in the Kroger shopping center that’s on the corner of Lascassass and Northfield/Rutherford.  And the inside is just a couch, a rack with stuff they’re selling, and the front desk.

They have a photo album on the table in front of the couch with 3D images of apparently every baby they’ve gotten pictures of.  There are a lot.  The problem I have with that is, ‘Why have a hundred or so pictures, which pretty much all look the same, while you can get the point across with maybe 20 pictures?’.

The secretary behind the desk was nice enough, but apparently they kept thinking that a ‘Tia Rogers’ had made an appointment, but we finally got it straightened out.  We didn’t wait long, as we were the only ones there.

The lady that did our ultrasound that day wasn’t as ‘open’ as we thought she should be.  She wasn’t very personable.  We spent about 15 minutes or so in the back room, which was fairly nice, doing a 2D ultrasound (like the doctors), where when she found an angle she liked, turned it into a colorized 3D series of pictures, that were streamed together to make it look like a video.

One thing India didn’t like was how the tech kept punching her in the stomach over and over to get Liberty to move so we could get a good face picture.

Their prices, after I actually had an ultrasound done for India, I concluded, where astronomically high for the service and items you receive.  They range from a basic package at $75, to their most expensive, which includes two sessions and other perks, for $160.

Overall opinion:

*The tech (who I’m assuming is the owner and therefore the only tech) wasn’t very friendly
*The tech kept girating and punching India in the stomach just to get Liberty to move, unsuccessfully
*The price for the package we got ($100) wasn’t a fair price, in my opinion (even for an elective procedure)
*The pictures and video you get when you have one done are pretty good
*Out of a 10, I give it a 3, only because the pictures and video were good, and the receptionist was fairly nice
* India told me she gave it a 6/10, but she had the same complaints that I did, she just gave it a better score for whatever reason

Here are the links to both places, so you can make your own educated decision, I hope you have a better experience than we did:

4D Peek: http://www.4dpeek.com

Focused 4D Imaging: http://www.focused4dimaging.com/

REMEMBER: 3D/4D Ultrasound appointments are an ELECTIVE procedure.  It is not meant to replace your doctor or any ultrasounds you have already gotten.  I will not be held responsible if you don’t like what you get.

And, as before, if you would like me to share any of your 'first-time father' stories, funny or serious, or have any questions you want answered, let me know.