Agghh, the joys of a fireman with a loose hose.
Anyway. On the morning of Sunday, 4/19 my lovely wife informed she "thought" her water had broken. As you can imagine, this confused her oh-so-pregnant-knowledgeable husband. After all, wasn't this experience similar to the tide rolling in? Hollywood had taught me it was a yes/no scenario, and we weren't in need of an ark just yet.
To be cautious, we secretly slid away to Greenville Memorial....no telling parents, no telling friends. Upon arrival, the nurse told us the levees were safe and the waters intact. In short, "walk it off champ." Although disappointed, Kristen thought this little excursion had earned a side-trip to IHOP. Ironically, this is when a little guy I call "Mr. Contraction" decided to make it a party of 3.
Have you ever tried to eat a peaceful lunch while your wife has contractions every 8 minutes? It's quite an experience, I guarantee. Fork in the eggs - kick to the shin - sip of tea- stomp on foot - pay the bill - "I'll be in the car."
Pause - Blue Moon, get in my belly.
Upon getting back to the house, I made the unfortunate mistake of patting my wife on the rear, and saying "why don't you hop in the sack for a little while." For you future fathers out there, this is the equivalent of sticking a pen in your own eye.
While the Preggo-Princess slipped back in the bed, I quickly learned we were in trouble. I began timing all the curse words and angry ramblings that were emitted my way....after about 30 minutes, those times were pretty consistent - 4 minutes apart. Wasn't this the point where the doc said to get on in?
The scrambling began....final clothes in the bag, feed the dogs, and off to the mommy-mobile. I even packed a good DVD to bring, which makes me laugh thinking about that now.
Like a 16-year old kid, I was pedal to the floor. If only you could have seen us Daytona-drafting the Chrysler Pacifica down I-85 on a Sunday afternoon. The church-goers feared my headlights screaming up behind them. I have since renamed her car the Silver Bullet...cheesy yes, but I need all the beer-references possible to produce testosterone these days.
Toast to myself - Blue Moon, down down down you go.
Getting to the hospital, everything went exactly to plan. Momma was dilated to a 5, and we were going to have a baby within the next 12 hours. The epidural slid in, and my superhero names of "quit talking to me", "you did this to me", and "shut up and drive" actually went back to Blair.
And for the purists out there with no drugs, you don't know what you're missing! My wife slept for about three hours of labor while the contraction-seismograph jumped around like a Cypress Hill video.
So we waited and we pushed while the entire clan....moms, dads, brothers, sisters, fiancees, grandparents...sat in the lobby. Much to Kristen's chagrin, Price waited until April 20th at 2:20 am to hit the ejection button in mom's belly....7 lbs, 4 ozs and 20 inches long!
While I'll spare you the details, the birthing experience is all the cliche things you could imagine it to be. At the exact moment my son entered the world, everything became very clear. You suddenly realize that you're priorities have been so trivial, and his life is the more important than yours. You instantly recognize a new type of love, and one that is unconditional beyond all borders. As I now look at my son, there is no length I wouldn't go to give him anything his heart desires. Ah, a tear in beer...."Cheers!"
Since we've been home, life has been nothing short of a dream. Price has been the perfect baby...and I don't say that simply because he's mine. At less than a day old, he was having hours of alertness and camera posing...future covers for the TJA Magazine. On his second day alive, he rolled over on his own....and yes, daddy got it on video. And to this date, little guy is only waking up once a night.....because we set an alarm to get him up!! And while he's awake, he's content to lay on his play mat, let the dogs face-rape him, and participate in his own game of Twister. Not to jinx it, but Kristen and I are smooth sailing!
However, there have been some interesting things I've learned in the last two weeks that I must share....these could save your lives one day...
1. No matter how small they seem, babies can rip 'em. Not the delicate, cute sounds you'd expect....no, they are capable of lifting themselves 3 inches off the ground, sending strangers ducking for drive-by cover, and leaving fathers in pure envy.
2. If it's 4:00 in the morning, and you're changing a diaper, refrain from talking to your son until the task is complete. Trust me, your son can interpret your open mouth as a circus game where he wins the teddy bear with the water pistol.
3. If they are hungry, resist the urge to kiss your son anywhere near his lips. Your nose will be interpreted as the food supply, and the toothless shark will clamp down. Upon realizing that you are not stocked with baby-beer, the sirens will go off and you will be screamed at unmercifully.
I hope this helps.
To end, I think it's only appropriate to share some pictures of the child superstar, Russell "Price" Miller. I would share more of the incredible two weeks, but I finished my beer. And these days, you take all the calm moments you can get!
PS - Since my son was born on 4/20, do I still do cigars for my buddies the next time we play golf???? Kidding, of course!
Until next time,
Daddy Denim Blue Moons and his Milky Way.
