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...  

Counting Down

At 32 weeks, it’s a little late in the game to be getting cold feet, but as the weeks fly by and the due date inches closer and closer, I find myself questioning if I’m ready for all of this.  Am I cut out to be a parent?  Just the other week used the term “milking the baby”.

Before it was all fun at games, well for me at least.  My wife’s little belly started to poke out, we were playing the name game, and planning the baby shower.  But now, as the trips to the doctor are becoming more frequent, her feet swell up like cantaloupes, and her energy has been depleted, I am constantly reminded that this will be happening soon.

The other night as I watched my wife get up to pee, sit down, and then get up to pee, it suddenly occurred to me--this whole pregnancy thing has suddenly gotten really real.

I know I know, man up right?  Stop whining while your wife is doing all of the work.  Trust me, I understand that I’ve got the easy job, but I’m supposed to be the man of the house, unafraid and strong, the protector.  I'm also just a bit nervous about this whole thing.  Because as the nursery is nears completion, and my coworkers say things like Oh wait until _____ happens! I'm beginning to get a little unravelled.

I try to shake it off, everything's normal, but then I watch my wife take more pee breaks than Willie Nelson trying to pass a drug test and I realize that in the not so distant future, after the Briggs and Stratton turn into real contractions, I will be driving her to the hospital, a nervous wreck, knowing that my life will never be the same again.

Standing Firm...

Last night my wife and I went to the nearby hospital for a tour of the maternity center.  We joined six or seven other expectant couples and in between pee breaks, we familiarized ourselves with the area. 

Our tour guide led us to the front desk, the delivery room, the recovery room, and everything in between while also going over procedures and protocols that were standard and in compliance with many regulations that I did not pay full attention to.

While in the recovery room, which was very nice and almost resembled more of a hotel room than hospital, our instructor informed us that it was here that our baby would be ready for his pictures and, for those having boys, circumcising. 

Here we go...

My wife raised her hand--or she may not have, actually I'm certain that she didn't--and asked:  

“Do both parents have to sign the consent form?”  Twelve heads whipped around towards us in unison, trying to locate the source of such an odd question.

My face, elevated from it's normal stand by shade of semi pale to an immediate code red, was now flushed and broadcasted what could be described as a pleasant scowl.

“Uh, no just one.”  The instructor answered, her tone pleasant and neutral.

This did little to mitigate my wife's concern, as she looked back at me with helpless resignation, as if she were touring a puppy mill.  I stood stoically behind her, attempting to put forth the look of the strong silent type, praying silently that she wouldn't start her tangent about mutilation and cruelty.

“I think nearly 90% of parents opt for the circumcision.” The instructor went on,  but this did little to satisfy my wife.  She mumbled something to the effect of not in Africa, which I didn’t understand nor acknowledge because I didn’t feel like having this ongoing debate in front of an audience.

And it has been a debate.  This is the only decision I have been adamant about.  My wife thinks it’s cruel and will cause unnecessary harm to our son.  I counter by telling her that I’m the expert in this department.  I don’t remember it, it’s done quickly and then it’s over with.

For those who aren’t circumcised or have elected not to circumcise their sons, that is fine too.  This just happens to be the one thing I request, and I don't feel that it's too much.

My wife finally let it pass, and we continued the short tour without incident.  I’m sure that this won’t be the first time we don’t see eye to eye on decisions for our son, and I’m sure she will more often than not get her way.  

Baby Class

I am happy to announce that I have registered my wife and I for a Baby Care class at our local hospital.  Although my wife has plenty of practice when it comes to caring for babies, I am a little intimidated by the thought of caring for such a helpless being. 

My only experiences with babies comes from visiting friends and family after they have brought a little one into the world.  There, I’m always forced to hold the baby where I’ve always been extremely afraid of dropping the fragile bundle of joy and if I did, there’s really no coming back from that.  Hey man, remember when I dropped your newborn baby?  Not a great topic of conversation at the next cookout.

Anyway, I can now rest assured knowing that everything and anything that I will need to know will be covered during this one time, 2.5 hour class.   That’s right, for $30 we will attend a class that will provide me with the all the skills I need to care for my son.  After this class, nothing will come up that I won’t be prepared to handle.  According to the summary, Baby Care Class is an A-Z class on diapering, bathing, safety topics, sign of illness, etc.  Etc means everything until the teenage years, right?

There are numerous other classes that I'm sure would benefit me as a first time parent, but some stuff I will just have to learn on my own. Besides, I refuse to take Infant Message, gotta draw the line somewhere...