There seems to be an interesting trend in the blogging world these days. Moms suddenly feel it necessary to give the entire world a very long and horrifyingly descriptive play-by-play of their entire labor and delivery process, often including slow-motion replay and color commentary by Charles Barkley.
Naturally, I felt an urge to 'represent' the father's side of these Birthing Stories, so here we go.
My wife nudges me at 3:30 in the morning, gives me 'the look', and five minutes later we're in the car on the way to the hospital. On the drive over I began asking myself the really introspective, soul-searching questions I'm sure all men begin to ask themselves on the cusp of becoming fathers: You know, like Am I really ready to be a dad? or What in the world was I thinking!? or even I hope the baby comes before the Jazz game starts.
We finally arrived at Madison Memorial hospital, a very nice hospital that practices the ancient Macedonian birthing art of asking lots of really impertinent questions.
Exhibit A
When we arrived, the outside entrance to the labor and delivery unit was locked, but there was an intercom for those unfortunate parents whose babies are on Chinese time. I pushed the call button and immediately a nurse's voice asked "What do you want?"
(What I didn't say, "I'll have a cheeseburger and fries. What about you honey?")
We got in, went up the elevator, and ran into another locked door with another intercom. Now I see the need to lock the outside door so that the 'bad guys' don't steal the fresh placentas, but a second locked door? The same nurse got on the intercom and asked the same question: "What do you want?"
(What I didn't say: My proctologist is out of town and said that you could do the check-up for him this week)
Finally, after the last locked door, a retina scanner, and a fairly uncomfortable body cavity search they let us into the labor and deliver unit.
Stay tuned for part 2
Naturally, I felt an urge to 'represent' the father's side of these Birthing Stories, so here we go.
My wife nudges me at 3:30 in the morning, gives me 'the look', and five minutes later we're in the car on the way to the hospital. On the drive over I began asking myself the really introspective, soul-searching questions I'm sure all men begin to ask themselves on the cusp of becoming fathers: You know, like Am I really ready to be a dad? or What in the world was I thinking!? or even I hope the baby comes before the Jazz game starts.
We finally arrived at Madison Memorial hospital, a very nice hospital that practices the ancient Macedonian birthing art of asking lots of really impertinent questions.
Exhibit A
When we arrived, the outside entrance to the labor and delivery unit was locked, but there was an intercom for those unfortunate parents whose babies are on Chinese time. I pushed the call button and immediately a nurse's voice asked "What do you want?"
(What I didn't say, "I'll have a cheeseburger and fries. What about you honey?")
We got in, went up the elevator, and ran into another locked door with another intercom. Now I see the need to lock the outside door so that the 'bad guys' don't steal the fresh placentas, but a second locked door? The same nurse got on the intercom and asked the same question: "What do you want?"
(What I didn't say: My proctologist is out of town and said that you could do the check-up for him this week)
Finally, after the last locked door, a retina scanner, and a fairly uncomfortable body cavity search they let us into the labor and deliver unit.
Stay tuned for part 2
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