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Saturday, May 10, 2014

The Chronicles Of Ridiculousness

Six years ago, I was sitting in an uncomfortable rocking chair, trying my best to fit my 6'4" frame into a piece of furniture meant for someone much smaller.  My wife, Jessi, was laying in the bed next to me.  She had been lying there for three days, on a mattress no thicker than a phone book.  

We checked into the hospital on Thursday at 10PM.  They started to induce her right away. Over the course of the next three days, the midwives had attached every possible wire and cable to my wife. Even if she wasn't wired up like a home theater system, her epidural limited Jessi to her hospital bed, and by extension, me to my fragile wooden chair. 

At one in the morning, there isn't anything entertaining on basic cable.  It's amazing how many episodes of 'The X Files' you can watch, when your only other option is infomercials. And, when they stop showing 'The X Files', you find yourself voluntarily watching 'The Chronicles of Riddick' for the third time in 48 hours.  

Movies don't accurately prepare you for childbirth.  They don't show you the kinds of complications that you'll experience.  They don't prepare you for the incessant waiting. 

They don't tell you that your wife might have a panic attack.  Or two.  And, they don't tell you about the blood. So much blood.

I didn't enjoy Jessi's pregnancy the first time around. In fact, I was a complete mess. I worried myself sick, unsure of myself and my abilities as a father.  I was terrified that I wouldn't know what to do. That I would repeat the mistakes that my father had made.  I had always been around children, but was uncomfortable with the idea of being responsible for one.

Then, as they were weighing my screaming newborn daughter, I leaned over her and said, "It's okay baby girl.  Daddy's here."  She instantly went silent, turned towards me, and I swore she smiled. In that moment, everything changed.  I went from panicked and afraid, to confident and secure. I had this. I was a father. And, I was going to be the best damn father on the block.

Happy birthday to my AMAZING little girl. And, happy Mother's Day to the remarkable woman that brought her into my world.


  1. Happy birthday to your daughter, brother. Happy "her mom and I survived that shit and life is good" day to YOU. We had quite the experience the first go-round and I'm finally at the point where I, too, can say, pssh...I have this...I am a father.

  2. Awww, this totally made me cry. Happy days to all of you!