It happened around 9:15 a.m. Sarah gave birth to our son, Oliver Ryan Lopinot. He’s 8 pounds, 7 ounces. Sarah’s in recovery because she had to go in for a C-section. I’ll have more to blog about later, but I have to get back to the room. Here are a couple pictures:

One hour to go? That’s what they’re saying may be the case. We were expecting the baby to arrive, maybe, around 9 p.m. But around 9 a.m.? I would have called you absurd had you suggested that. But here we are. Sarah’s going naturally right now. I don’t know all the stats. I believe I heard a “6 centimeters” about 30 minutes ago.

Sarah’s resting now, with contractions about 2 minutes apart. She’s been doing an awesome job so far. I’m really proud of her. She’s been really calm and sweet.

More to come …

This may be my last update for a while. At 5 a.m., Sarah was given the epidural. She’s now 4 centimeters and almost entirely effaced (if you don’t know what that means, you’ve never been through the process or watched 8,000 hours of “A Baby Story” on TLC like I’ve been subjected to).

They’re not sure if they’re going to give her the pottossin (sp?) now. They’re going to decide later. We were told to get some rest. I asked the nurse where she thought we were in the process, and she responded, “If I had to guess, I’d say you have about six hours left.”

That’s amazing. We thought we’d just be starting this thing in about six hours, but done? Crazy stuff. I’ve called both of our moms, and all of the parents are wide awake and just super excited. As are we.

By the way, if you haven’t figured out the name yet, visit this post from a few weeks ago and try to decode my clues. If you still can’t figure it out, you’ll know in a few hours anyway.

More to come …

Sarah’s water broke just a few minutes before 4 a.m. Her doctor is being called now, and they’re going to be starting the Potossin (sp?) any minute. She’s having some big contractions, and we’re both nervious. More to come …

It’s 21:43 at the hospital (that’s 9:43 p.m. to you and me). Sarah’s still filling out paperwork, but it’s been an exhilarating experience. Our evening so far has gone like so, with all times approximate:

7:20 p.m. – My dad calls and pretends he’s from the hospital. Sarah figures it out quickly. My parents are still on their way to our house, which they are staying at while we are on our hospital stay. They’re near the Maritz bridge along I-44. We expect to see them soon.

7:35 p.m. – The hospital calls, and it’s 25 minutes earlier than the earliest time we thought they’d call (if that makes sense; they were supposed to call at 8 p.m. or later). We launch into our “leaving mode.” Sarah scarfed down a bowl of Golden Grahams while I let Molly out for a quick potty break.

7:45 p.m. – I call my parents. They are at Harvester and Caulk’s Hill. We are going to miss them by about five minutes. I apologize.

7:50 p.m. – I feel bad about not at least seeing my parents for a few minutes, so we call them and decide to meet along the road. They arrive shortly, and we exchange hugs. I feel much better.

8:05 p.m. – Sarah calls her mom. We’re almost to I-270.

8:20 p.m. – We arrive at the hospital. I drop Sarah off and park the car.

8:35 p.m. – We enter the room where we will deliver our baby. It’s warm here, and it looks like I’ll be sleeping in a vinyl-covered recliner. Nice.

8:50 p.m. – Sarah answers about a bajillion questions (OK, maybe 40 or 50) and fills out some paperwork.

Present – They keep coming in and checking stuff. Sarah’s hooked to an IV and still awaiting the drugs. We’re both settling in for a long night and an exciting Thursday.

I’ll update you all again soon. Have a great evening.

In honor of our impending trip to the hospital to get this thing going (we’re headed there tomorrow evening), I thought it would be cool to post another Q&A. You may remember the Feb. 1 edition, which proved quite popular. And it was helpful for me, too, because it cut down on some of the “repeat question” offenders. If you don’t see your question here, please check my previous post first. Most of the answers still apply.

With that, I bring you the March 4 edition …

Q: Thursday, eh?
A: Yes, Thursday. I’ve only said it a thousand times.

Q: Tell me again, are you having a boy or girl?
A: Please, please, please do NOT ask this question again. If you don’t know by now, maybe you should go elsewhere.

Q: Have you picked a name yet?
A: Yes.

Q: Can you tell me what that name is?
A: Nope. However, you’ll find out soon enough. Of course, if you’ve seen the arrangement of letters we put up on the wall of the baby’s room, you may be able to figure it out.

Q: Is it Chester?
A: No.

Q: Is it Justin Jr.?
A: No.

Q: Is it Michael Christian Cunniff Jr. or Robert Jason Bergfeld Jr.?
A: No.

Q: Do you like it when I keep asking you about names?
A. No, so please stop.

Q: How’s Sarah feeling?
A: She’s feeling big, which is appropriate, since she is, well, big now. She’s also a little nervous. Though she’s watched about 10,000 births on Discovery Health over the past nine months, she’s still not sure about what exactly is going to happen. (As a related aside, I’m soooo sick of coming downstairs, turning the corner to the living room and seeing baby shows and that darn program about some lady named Kate, her husband and their eight kids — so stupid.)

Q: How about you? Are you ready to be a dad?
A: I’m absolutely ready. As I mentioned on this blog a few days ago, I have this calm sense about me right now. Things just feel right. It’s hard to explain, so I won’t try any harder than that. You’ll have to take my word on it.

Q: Has the pregnancy impacted your relationship with Sarah?
A: I think it’s drawn us closer together. I may joke about marital woes from time to time, but we really get along great and love each other deeply.

Q: Is Sarah “nesting” yet?
A: Oh yeah. She’s been cleaning nonstop. Earlier today, I had to pry a bleach-based product out of her vice grip-like hand. “Baby shouldn’t be breathing the fumes that product emits,” I said. She finally handed over the stuff, but she just moved on to something else, like dusting. I’m just glad she recently stopped telling me that I don’t do “anything” (she’s since replaced that comment with the more appropriate and perfectly applicable, “You don’t do very much around here.”)

Q: Do you think Molly will be able to handle it when you bring the baby home?
A: I must first state that our goldendoodle, precious as she appears, is hyperactive and, quite frankly, a moron. I don’t think she’s going to handle this new addition well. She turned 2 years old today, but she still has some growing up to do. I don’t think my pleading to her will do any good.

Q: When are you headed back to work?
A: April 4.

Q: Wow, April 4? That’s awesome. Where do you work?
A: I work for the Standing Partnership, and they’ve been really great to me.

Q: What about Sarah? When’s she going back?
A: I believe June 1.

Q: Did you ever decide what you’re going to do about child care?
A: We’re still procrastinating. Let us know if you have any ideas worth sharing.

Well, that officially wraps up this Q&A. If you have additional questions, please leave a comment or send me an e-mail.

I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to become a dad. Less than a week to go, and things are just now feeling, um, right. It’s like some sort of daddy-to-be hormone kicked in and knocked me out of my mind. Hard to describe.

So this is it. Reality is about to set in. Our son is about to enter this Earth. Crazy. Though I always knew this day would come, part of me always thought this day would NEVER come.

I’m sure I’ll post a few more times before the big day, but I wanted to let my two family members who read this blog because I ask them about it constantly on the phone readers know to check back here next Friday or Saturday from some pictures of the next great Lopinot. For now, you can settle on this nice shot taken last weekend by Sarah’s mom, who’s a fantastic photographer:

I say there are 10 days left. Sarah says there are nine. I don’t want to argue over it, and math hasn’t been my specialty over the years, but either way we’re looking at delivering on March 6. And no, we’re not doing the “trendy” inducement thing that’s sadly becoming all the rage. Her doctor is actually scheduling ours for legitimate medical reasons. It’s precautionary and nothing major.

It’s kind of exciting knowing that in nine 10 days or less, I’ll be holding my son. Looking into his eyes. Thinking about playing catch with him in 2012, taking him to get his drivers license in 2024, watching him graduate from high school in 2026, sharing a beer with him in 2029 and, perhaps someday, watching him go through the joy and excitement of a pregnancy just like Sarah and I doing right now. It’s going to be cool. I can’t wait. Let the countdown begin.

Mike, one of my oldest and closest friends, is now a father. His wife gave birth to a 8 pound, 6 ounce baby girl early Tuesday morning. Mary Cunniff is the name. She’s really a cutie (sadly, no skinny head like her daddy!). Sarah and I went to visit them at the hospital on Wednesday, and it was quite an experience. Hearing their stories about the delivery and hospital stay has given us confidence as we head into our final 11 (or less) days of “two-dom.”

Mike’s a much older and wiser man than I am (he was born on Dec. 28, I joined in on Dec. 30 — same year). And he’s already filling me up with advice about fatherhood. I’m sure that will continue to be the case, seeing as he’ll always have two weeks more experience than I will have. I’ve already been cracking up at his stories of sleeping on a rug due to exhaustion and the damage caused by loose-fitting, poopy diapers (“You need to practice putting diapers on a baby,” he advised me).

Well, I just can’t wait to join in the fun. It’s going to be awesome raising our kids together throughout the rest of our lives. Here’s a pic of the proud papa with “Pretty Mary Sunlight“: