Daddy Status

I've moved from impregnator to actual daddy. I wasn't what I expected but a miracle nevertheless. Perhaps cursed by a very uneventful and smooth pregnancy, delivery was a bitch and although I didn't endure any of the pain (I was at the risk of invoking a bad Denzel movie, ready to go John Q. Public). We went in at 7 am and my wife had a C-section at 11:17 pm. For much of early labor, my wife didn't even know she was having contractions they were so mild. Then came the used car salesman who filled in as our OB/GYN complete with bald spotted gray hair. Since we are blessed to be in an HMO medical group, the doctor we've been seeing for nine months was replaced by Dr. Joe Random - who must have had a tee-time the next morning.

First thing he wants to do is "get things going" by breaking my wife's water, and then threatens to send us home if he can't. After talking with our friend in family medicine, he tells us the only risk is infection after 12 hours. So we do it on Joe Random's lunch visit. Then he suggests pitocin. Then making an appearance 10 hours later, he says labor is going too slow, even though the nurse had just said it was moving great with her fully effaced, dilated, and head crowning. What do you know, he says my wife has a fever and must have an infection, so we must have a C-section. He says we would be jeopardizing the baby if we didn't go C-section, so we have little choice. We find out the baby was facing up (the wrong way) which is useful information that we think might have been able to glean previous to actual delivery. Thank goodness for Jack Johnson and his Curious George Soundtrack.

I didn't want to watch the C-section since Lamaze class had provided a tasty sample and a woman that had gotten one said at one point they removed her uterus, until I saw them lift the baby. From a figment of imagination to body and whitish-blood streaked flesh.) I was in the room and held my wife's shaking hand, chills from the mega-grade epidural. Such an indescribable walk to the nursery with my newborn son.

For once I find back and shoulder hair cute, as I look at my little George "the Animal" Steele. But his face is all Squirt, the kid surfing turle, from Finding Nemo with the buggy eyes, nearly non-existent nose, and beaky mouth (cute even when its gaping from crying.)