National Naval Medical Center (NNMC) upheld its commitment to "Family-Centered Care" June 3 allowing Marine Staff Sgt. Andrew Kingdon to witness the live birth of his daughter - 400 miles away - through video teleconferencing (VTC).
Kingdon is an Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF) patient recovering at Bethesda from injuries sustained while on call in Iraq.
Kingdon began his six-month deployment in Iraq in April knowing that his wife, Sharon Kingdon, was pregnant and that there was a very real possibility that he could miss the birth of his first child. He may be experienced as a Marine, but as a father, he is a novice.
Kingdon received status updates on the pregnancy mostly through instant messaging from Sharon until about two weeks prior to delivery.
At this point, an arrangement was made between Sharon and the hospital staff to broadcast the baby's delivery via web cam to her husband.
However, it was also during this time that an enemy-attack explosion severely wounded Kingdon and caused his removal from the front lines in Baghdad to the Ward at NNMC.
The turn of events posed uncertainty for Kingdon in the days following the explosion. Not only did he face the likelihood of losing an opportunity to witness a personal miracle - his child's birth - in person; Kingdon also faced surgery on the target delivery date, June 3.
"The chances of a baby being born the day it is expected are rather small...something like five percent," explained Kingdon. "Three days before, [my wife and I] even joked about the baby being born Thursday."
According to Kingdon, his surgeon was able to postpone his surgery time until after the delivery and staff members at the children's hospital in Rhode Island, where Sharon was receiving prenatal care, were able to provide a live video feed to the Telemedicine Clinic at Bethesda using VTC.
This gave Kingdon the best of both worlds; he could see the birth of his child, and still undergo his necessary surgery without significant delay.
The anticipated day came with an early wake-up call inside Kingdon's berthing room.
"Around five o'clock, I get a call," Kingdon said. "It was my wife. She said, 'I'm on my way to the hospital. Bye.'"
Kingdon was assisted to the private teleconference room where, once inside, nurses provided him with the necessary ongoing care for his impending surgery.
He looked comfortable sitting wearing pajama pants, socks and a forest green T-shirt. His legs were extended and his ankles crossed, while his eyes concentrated on the video monitor.
His right sleeve was rolled to allow space for an attached medical appliance; he appeared to internally fight his body's natural responses to the pain medication's sedating quality.
The fact that the dates of surgery and his wife's delivery coincided suggested nothing to Kingdon. He was more focused on the birth than anything.
After four hours of waiting the moment of truth was upon him.
"I knew the baby was on her way. I could hear and see my wife's pain," Kingdon said.
Kingdon appeared amazed with a dreamy gaze and taken back by the presence of his daughter on the television screen.
"My eyes were a little misty-eyed," he would say later.
He sat still and quietly gazed at his baby daughter wrapped cocoon-like resting below her mother's chin.
Kingdon looked calm, peaceful and unaffected in thought by the surgery ahead. A monitor beeped and a nurse came to check on Kingdon.
Ironically, Kingdon experienced everything he expected, just not exactly how he imagined.
On a new reality, "it's gotten to me, but it just hasn't hit me," Kingdon said.