Renewing My Vows, Or Else…
|Why am I always chasing THIS guy!?|
Monster Lesson #1
|See. Not all monsters are bad:)|
DID I JUST HAVE BABY FEVER!?
The Ravings of a Lunatic!
|WARNING: Having kids can literally turn you into a Pot-Head!|
A new friend, and soon-to-be fellow new Daddy asked if I had any advice for him before “B Day”? At first I thought, “I got nothin’.” And then I started typing…
It may not be the right way? But like Frank Sinatra said, “I did it my way.”;)
Daddy, I’M Scared!!!
|And the there were two….|
Duck Face!? More Like a Fuck Face!!!
|Duck Face!? More like a FUCK FACE!!!|
JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I WAS OUT, THEY PULLED ME BACK IN!
|It’s a boy!!!:)|
At 2am on the night before the winter storm Weatherpersons deemed “Snowmegeddon”, Wifey started having contractions. Thus, I started having heart palpitations.
It’s not like I didn’t remember we were having another baby. Although with the second pregnancy, every thing up until this moment seemed, how you say…uneventful. Not that Wifey and I weren’t excited. How can I put this without sounding like a complete asshole? To me, the second pregnancy was like reading a really awesome book for the second time. Even though the story was no less captivating, you knew what to expect at every turn. There were no surprises. (Thankfully!:)
Fast forward to 10am Monday morning. The contractions were starting to form a real pattern now. This was no false alarm. So, we did what every nervous, expecting couple would do. We ate at The Krispy Waffle. By the time the plates were cleared from the table, my flatulence was brewing, and the contractions were nearly 10 minutes apart! Time to speed home and call our Birth Coach, Cousin M!
By the time Cousin M. arrived, Wifey’s contractions were now 7-8 minutes apart! OK, I know some of you may be wondering, why the F**K are you people still at home at this point!? To make a VEEERY long story short, when our first son was born, we made the mistake of arriving at the hospital WAY too early. That led to Wifey being strapped to an IV and a monitor for 15 hours leading up to the delivery. With this baby, we were determined to deliver on our terms, with as little intervention as possible. Yes, this means no drugs! I say we, because even though my wife was doing all the hard stuff, she still swears it would not have been possible without the support of our team. My cousin, a Bradley Natural Birth Coach (and Saint:) was there to offer support for both Wifey and I. Marissa and I traded off comforting Mama, and answering the rapid fire questions upon check-in. Marissa and I were both literally at Wifey’s side the entire time. Talk about a Godsend!
Rapid-fire questions, you ask? Yes, I’m getting to that. By 3pm, the contractions were less than five minutes apart! Judging by Wifey’s reaction to the intensifying donkey-punches as compared to the first pregnancy, I was guessing she was two to three hours away from dropping a living-breathing deuce! The team concurred, it was time to hit the road!
The story becomes anything BUT uneventful now. My greatest fear since the moment we laid eyes on the “Positive” sign on the pregnancy pee-stick was the DRIVE to the hospital! Would I be white-knuckled and glued to the windshield while trying to console a crazed preggers lady during a blizzard!? The Gods smiled upon us that afternoon. No snow, and an amazingly CALM wife, considering what she was about to endure!
Both cars in our Baby Team caravan skidded into hospital valet at 4:40pm! We were greeted by the laziest and rudest valet attendant of all time. I’m not kidding. When I asked for a luggage carrier, he just pointed at one over by the entrance. By the time I said “Thanks, Dick”, Super Marissa had a hundred pounds of luggage slung over every limb and Wifey in a wheelchair! I told you she was a Godsend!
Holy shit! It was 5pm! Wifey could no longer hold a conversation by the time the Nurse took her vitals and did a quick exam. “I’m happy to be the bearer of GOOD news”, the nurse said hurriedly, “You’re dilated to an 8.5!” This is when things get a little blurry.
The next thing I know, the Nurses are calling the OB and wheeling in the equipment for delivery! I guessed I didn’t have time to set up the iPod complete with a hand selected, soothing John Tesh playlist. What a waste! Anywho…
Let me spare the graphic details and skip to right around 6:00pm. Wifey was going to war
on that delivery table! I’m talking the stuff that movies are made of! Guys, imagine trying to poop a 7 pound bowling ball without so much as a Tylenol to ease the pain!? Forgeddaboutit!!!
As I’m trying to help console her, in my mind I’m thinking, these next few minutes could either go really, really good, or heaven forbid, really, really bad. Up until this point, there had only been two times in my entire life when I was absolutely terrified. The first was when my Mom uttered the words, “I have cancer”. The second was those same few minutes just before our first son was born. I just kept thinking, there’s a room full of Angels watching over us right now. Nothing can touch us.
I pushed past that thought just as Wifey was starting to push out our second child. For those of you that have never witnessed childbirth, I can barely describe the overwhelming emotions. The third push seemed to last forever. As she was enduring the most searing pain imaginable, in what seemed like absolute chaos surrounding us, all I could think to do was whisper “I love you” in her ear.
I snapped-to again, and focused on the little human being appearing right before my very eyes. I stood amazed, as if I was staring transfixed on every feature of a brand new car as it rolled off the assembly line. Dark hair…ears….eyes….nose….arms…..and finally….PENIS! PENIS! IT’S A BOY! IT’S A BOY!!!!
With that feeling of complete ELATION came complete RELIEF! As with our first boy, I crumbled into tears. It’s funny now to look at the pictures and see the only person crying in a room full of people was me…again. There I was witnessing the nurses raise our perfect little boy to my wife’s chest, and him cracking his eyes open to see for the first time, the woman with the sweet voice who had been taking such good care of him all those months before.
Until my first son was born, I’d only witnessed people leaving this world. To see a person entering this world, Day 1, Minute 1, is the stuff that songs are written about.
Let’s fast forward to today. Wifey is on the mend. Little Bean is healthy. Buddy is starting to realize this little show-stealer isn’t leaving anytime soon. And me, well, I’m starting to understand the magnitude of coolness of this situation. I have two sons! Two sons, that will grow up brothers and hopefully best friends. And, their future…Who knows what that will bring?
All I can do is provide and guide, love them to pieces, and buy coffee. Lots of coffee.
One Prepared Daddy
Am I a Dickhead Dad?
|The only peace I’ll get for the next 20 years…|
I must admit, I feel a bit guilty. With my wife’s first pregnancy, I created so much hype that it turned into 18 months worth of daily Facebook and blog posts, eventually becoming the One Funny Daddy pages (and a book for Jake). Not to mention, 1,000’s of pictures, hours of video, etc. You would of thought we had just spawned Justin Bieber! While Baby Number 2 has been in the oven, my wife and I have calmly and sweetly prepared for the arrival. I am grateful to say it has been an uneventful, relatively painless pregnancy for the wifey. But…no ‘365 Days of Baby Number 2’. No hype. Just hope. Hope that we are lucky enough to bring another happy and healthy kiddo into the family. So, what do we tell this child when he or she asks to see their book, or all those pictures of Mama while she was preggers? Of course, Number 2 will be just as loved, yadda, yadda. Although, with WAY less fanfare. Is this how “Middle Child Syndrome” begins? Am I a Dickhead Dad!?!?!?