Yes, still waiting...
Technically I am early. But I, and likely a lot of other first-timers in the past, viewed my wife's belly as "abnormally large" and naturally expected the baby to slide on down the birth canal to an early birthday. However, my original 2-week guess turned into a 10-day understanding, then to a 1 week acceptance, and before yesterday to a 4 day demand. I seem to be getting a glimpse into Kaelyn's teenage years: she doesn't really care what I think.
Sarah had her weekly visit to the doc yesterday. Still healthy, still head-down, and still 1cm. Translation: No. Change. At. All. The "1cm" dilation we heard about 3 weeks ago certainly piqued my interest, but I've come to think 1cm is simply the doc's glass-is-half-full way of saying "Grab a seat kids, you're gonna be hear awhile".
There was some good news however. Since Sarah's official due date is Friday the 26th, the doc set an induction date of Wednesday July 1st. The plan is to check her in to the hospital, get her all comfy and happy, make sure she's fully hydrated and in good health, then start the show. While most people are excited about technology and the ability to plan their child's birth around their shopping schedules, I'll admit I'm a little down about this. I had this great vision in my head of the perfect triumphant birth. Let me set the scene for you (queue dream sequence).
While a work finalizing a huge deal with a large customer, the phone rings. Putting the customer on hold, I answer my ringing phone and hear the good news: "I'M HAVING A BABY!". I'd have to tell the customer I'd call them back, I'M HAVING A BABY! After hearing him agree to the deal anyway, I'd slam my phone down, grab my keys, and sprint out of my office (in slow-motion of course) to a standing ovation and someone playing the theme song to Chariots of Fire. My frantic 911 call to inform the authorities "I'M DRIVING 112 MPH DOWN 183 BECAUSE MY WIFE'S IN LABOR!!!" would no doubt lead to a 3-pronged escort through 15 miles of Dallas freeway. My arrival at the hospital, where I park in the doctor's space of course (MY WIFE'S HAVING A BABY!!! WHO HAS TIME TO WALK???), is met with the doctor handing me my scrubs and escorting me to the labor room where I would triumphantly enter to my wife's relieved expression and cries of "I LOVE YOU! WE'RE HAVING A BABY!". A couple of hours of comfort and strength (provided by yours truly) would be rewarded with my single tear of joy dropping on Kaylen's cheek. I would cut the cord, walk out into the waiting room where our parents, sisters, brothers, grandparents, friends and extended family would be eagerly anticipating the arrival, and pronounce "WE HAD A BABY GIRL!!!". Where upon family and friends alike would hug and laugh and cry and even the triage nurse would shed a tear. It would be beautiful.
Instead, I'll drive home from work in 5pm traffic, grab a bag, park in the normal person parking spot, and set the timer for the hatching. Oh joy.
All kidding aside, even a timed hatching will be a beautiful thing. But for those of you who wonder, I'll still be screaming inside.
1 week and counting. We can't wait to meet you baby girl! ~Love, Daddy.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Waiting Game - Final Round
We're now sitting at about 11 days out from B-Day. At least for me, time sure has flown by! I'm sure Sarah would have a differing opinion.
With Sarah in the final stages she's begun the weekly doctors visits, each time hoping he decides she better make a b-line to the hospital. At last check Kaelyn is head down and ready, and Sarah was 1cm dilated. Sounds like go time, but Kaelyn seems to be enjoying her little cocoon. We've gotten plenty of advice on ways to dislodge her, number one being spicy Mexican food, but all the jalapenos and salsa in the world don't seem to have an effect on Baby H (although she may give an occasional "Damn that's hot" kick in protest). Sarah's also trying to stay on her feet more and get out to walk in the afternoons. I'm not sure if she's hoping gravity has a better grip than Kaelyn or what, but I'm up for it if she is.
Sarah's hanging tough, still working eight hour days and working around the house, but she's about ready to cut the cord and get this show on the road. Not only is she in physical discomfort, but the social aspect of the situation has gotten to her as well. I've witnessed it first hand and can sympathize with her. I can't remember the last time we stepped outside and didn't hear a "Are you having twins?", a "Must be a boy!", or the most common and least necessary, "Wow, you're about to pop!". I believe I've been guilty of that last phrase myself. Hell, I even have a previous post with that in the title. Don't worry ladies, I've taken that one out of my repertoire.
I personally have found myself in an odd state as of late. It's hard to explain, but this whole pregnancy situation has just sort of become, well, our situation. It's kind of like our engagement: There was the planning of the question, or in this case the conception (no details will be provided on this part, thank you...). Then there was the question itself, but instead of a yes we found two pink lines. Then there was the waiting. And waiting. Aaaaand waiting. During this wait period I've just come to know Sarah as preggers, much like Sarah was my fiancee. I had tended to forget that, yes, we were actually going be married, much like now I seem to forget that the growth under Sarah's shirt is actually my daughter. The only difference between the pregnancy and the engagement (besides the obvious folks...) is the definitive date.
Now, as the final stage approaches and I know what's in store I feel like Christmas Eve (every freaking night, hence yet another Midnight post). It's harder to sleep. Every time Sarah's picture pops up on my phone my eyes widen. When she's in the other room and yells for me I could probably run through the wall without a blink. I feel this sudden desire to hold my daughter, and I don't even know what she's going to look like.
I guess, in essence, I feel like I'm engaged to be a father.
I'd meant to start some kind of betting pool for the big day, but I think 11 days out is a little thin. Not sure what I would have offered up as a prize. Maybe you get to change the diapers for a day? I had the 12th pegged, and since that's passed it sounds like a pretty good prize to me. Either way, the day is approaching soon and it sure does feel like a good time to be alive.
We'll meet you soon Baby Girl!!! ~~Daddy
With Sarah in the final stages she's begun the weekly doctors visits, each time hoping he decides she better make a b-line to the hospital. At last check Kaelyn is head down and ready, and Sarah was 1cm dilated. Sounds like go time, but Kaelyn seems to be enjoying her little cocoon. We've gotten plenty of advice on ways to dislodge her, number one being spicy Mexican food, but all the jalapenos and salsa in the world don't seem to have an effect on Baby H (although she may give an occasional "Damn that's hot" kick in protest). Sarah's also trying to stay on her feet more and get out to walk in the afternoons. I'm not sure if she's hoping gravity has a better grip than Kaelyn or what, but I'm up for it if she is.
Sarah's hanging tough, still working eight hour days and working around the house, but she's about ready to cut the cord and get this show on the road. Not only is she in physical discomfort, but the social aspect of the situation has gotten to her as well. I've witnessed it first hand and can sympathize with her. I can't remember the last time we stepped outside and didn't hear a "Are you having twins?", a "Must be a boy!", or the most common and least necessary, "Wow, you're about to pop!". I believe I've been guilty of that last phrase myself. Hell, I even have a previous post with that in the title. Don't worry ladies, I've taken that one out of my repertoire.
I personally have found myself in an odd state as of late. It's hard to explain, but this whole pregnancy situation has just sort of become, well, our situation. It's kind of like our engagement: There was the planning of the question, or in this case the conception (no details will be provided on this part, thank you...). Then there was the question itself, but instead of a yes we found two pink lines. Then there was the waiting. And waiting. Aaaaand waiting. During this wait period I've just come to know Sarah as preggers, much like Sarah was my fiancee. I had tended to forget that, yes, we were actually going be married, much like now I seem to forget that the growth under Sarah's shirt is actually my daughter. The only difference between the pregnancy and the engagement (besides the obvious folks...) is the definitive date.
Now, as the final stage approaches and I know what's in store I feel like Christmas Eve (every freaking night, hence yet another Midnight post). It's harder to sleep. Every time Sarah's picture pops up on my phone my eyes widen. When she's in the other room and yells for me I could probably run through the wall without a blink. I feel this sudden desire to hold my daughter, and I don't even know what she's going to look like.
I guess, in essence, I feel like I'm engaged to be a father.
I'd meant to start some kind of betting pool for the big day, but I think 11 days out is a little thin. Not sure what I would have offered up as a prize. Maybe you get to change the diapers for a day? I had the 12th pegged, and since that's passed it sounds like a pretty good prize to me. Either way, the day is approaching soon and it sure does feel like a good time to be alive.
We'll meet you soon Baby Girl!!! ~~Daddy
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