Week 36 is here.Yesterday, my wife went to the doctor for her now weekly check-up.It seems our little beano is doing just fine and could stay put for up to 5 more weeks.I’m hoping for two, my wife is hoping for yesterday.His head has dropped and he’s in position, confirming that yes, that was his little rear end we felt the other night after dinner.
He’s an active little guy, wriggling and moving in his cramped quarters, causing his mother a bit of discomfort at times. The nurses have tried to guess his weight upon arrival, one has said to expect an 8lb baby, the other said 6lbs.We’ll go with 7.
My protective instincts are kicking in too. Over the weekend we went to see Lincoln, impressive considering it was 2.5 hours long. During the previews, which involved many loud scenes with explosions and gun shots, my wife put her hand on her belly and whispered that our son was bouncing and jerking. Well that was all I needed to hear as I was ready to leave, or ask the theatre to take it down a notch when she grabbed my hand, shaking her head no.
On a side note, I hope I never become that parent, the one who writes letters to the editor, complaining about a loud rock concert downtown after dark, or starts a petition to have all sharp edges removed from knives.
Anyway, I can’t believe that the end is in sight, or rather the beginning.It’s been one heck of a ride, and now I’ve focused my worries on the delivery.Deep breaths...I wonder if they offer men’s Lamaze classes, or if it’s to late to attend? The other day I said something to my wife about how the stress of the upcoming labor was getting to me....yeah I'm an idiot.