The Tale of Two Nights...

Night one.

We did it!  No you did it!  He’s beautiful….. I can’t believe he’s here…..We’re parents!  Wow…he’s so quiet.  What if he’s one of those magical babies?  Is there such a thing?  I think so….he’s got your nose….he’s got your eyes….he looks like you…No, he looks like you….I love his little sounds…me too…someone’s at the door…Yes, the room is so nice!....Oh, a sleep sofa….wow....this is like a hotel!....He sleeps so much!  He’s perfect….you’re perfect….I can’t believe we did it!

Night two.

What time is it?….What day is it?...Someone's at the door...again?.... That light is so bright…turn it off....not that one….now they’re both off…Who’s at the door?….He pooped again…is that poop? What is that?......I thought this was a sleep sofa? The phone is ringing…..I’m just going to close my eyes for a minute….I’m awake!....Is he okay? This must be what GITMO feels like….Oh, I didn't say anything...the baby’s crying….I’m feeding the baby…..Did you write it down?....Which boob?....Someone’s at the door…..the baby’s crying……Come in....how can he cry that loud! Get the phone....He pooped again…..did you write it down?  I’m just going to close my eyes….I’m awake!  

The Journey Begins...

People always say that having kids changes everything, that you see the world differently after children come into your life. But advice can only be given and taken, not lived.  A few blurry days ago, I quickly learned that nothing had prepared me for the intensity of what I felt in that delivery room.

I had decided long ago that I wasn’t going to look down.  I have a weak stomach, so I devised a plan that would allow me to be supportive yet comfortable.  I would be the around the shoulder coach, the hand holder, the strong, silenced by immovable fear type.  But in the heat of the moment, as the pushing and the screaming coincided with the contracting and the breathing, I peeked.  And it changed my life.

I watched my son come into this world, dumbstruck with a deluge of emotions.  I was speechless, teary eyed, light headed, and woozy.  I wiped sweaty locks of hair from my wife’s face as I tried to encourage her, my hands shaking and my voice faltering. It was surreal and natural at the same time.

There in that busy room, the source of all my worrying and wondering came out in one perfectly slimed, purple, amniotic package of tiny arms and legs that absolutely terrified me for the few precious seconds before filling the room with a raucous roar.

 

As the monitors beeped and hummed, blending with the primitive sounds of brand new life, the frenzied flow of hospital staff bustled about the room as I cut the cord and officially welcomed my son to the world.

In the calm that followed, the nurses and the doctors finished up and gave our small exhausted family a moment in peace, far and away the best moment of my life. Now the real journey begins...  

Holding...

Kind of stuck at this point, I feel like everyday life has come to a grinding halt as my wife and I hover over the runway in a holding pattern.  We watch movies, hangout with the dogs, and otherwise, well, wait.  We may need to get out of the house, but we're not quite sure where to go.

Planning any type of outing takes strategic timing and maneuvering.  Road trips are out of the question.  Fatigue can set in at any moment, so we have to be prepared.  One minute my wife is racing through the house, folding baby clothes before rearranging furniture in the nursery, bustling with energy while racing up and down the hall.  And then suddenly all is quiet, I find her on the couch, dead to the world, sleeping through another fascinating case of Law & Order.  Just how many episodes of this how exist? 

On Saturday, I found myself talking to the little guy in her belly, singing songs and telling stories--which may be giving him second thoughts about coming out.  We placed our bets as to his arrival.  I’m thinking it’s going to be a couple of weeks, which means two things.  His mother will become increasingly unbearable uncomfortable, and I will work myself into a neurotic mess as I continue to think about D-day.  This is how I spend my weekends.

I did get my truck cleaned up on Sunday, as I prepare to sell my manhood for something more, uh, baby friendly.  Actually this decision didn't bother me at all, as I look forward to seeing a babyseat in the rearview mirror.

So goes our life during these days of anticipating and planning, with each day passing as we wait.  My weekends have changed drastically, as I kicked things off Friday by watching the baby care dvd we received during our class, only this time I didn’t laugh.  With my wife catching up on her lesson plans, I watched intently, unable to control myself from saying "aww" as the little baby took his first breaths. I’m kidding of course, I watched arm wrestling on Spike Tv, drinking beer and eating a raw steak, smoking a cigar while curling cinderblocks with my free hand.  I’m still a man, I think.