The Beginning

Every journey has a first step and this is mine. Just to bring you up to speed, here is some background.

The morning my wife told me that we weren't going to be "just a couple" any more; numerous things ran through my head. Excitement quickly changed to fear as I realized how inadequately prepared I was to be a dad. The FUN part of this DIY project was over but there was much more work to be done. Most men in this situation have to fight back the urge to go buy a baseball glove. Me on the other hand, began thinking about all the stuff my “mini-me” and I could build together. What would be our first project? Which tools would he (or she) need first? Whoa, wait just a minute, there was plenty of time for all that. My mind was racing now. I guess we need to schedule Lamaze classes, buy or (better yet) build furniture for the “guest room” in our apartment. Decide on regular or disposable diapers and join the nearest La Leche League chapter.

My wife patiently waited while I planned out the next several years and suggested we may want to call our parents about the news. Good idea! Always there to bring me down to earth! The rest of the morning was spent running up the long distance phone bill.

The months past too quickly for me and not quickly enough for my wife, who needed help rolling over in bed and tying her shoes for the last several weeks of her pregnancy. Then one morning she was laying there next to me and said her water broke. I said “yeah, right”, while half asleep. She gently took my hand and had me feel the mattress. “Your water broke!” I screamed and jumped out of bed. She insisted on taking a shower before we left for the hospital. Later that day, she had a C-section and the final phase of our “project” began. The anesthesiologist said our son already looked like a fullback.

My wife and son would be in the hospital for about 3 days. This was twenty years ago. Now, I think they pat you on the head and give you a sack lunch for the drive home on the same day. Well, maybe not, but I think the HMO’s have considered it.

On the way home from the hospital, with all the confidence of a man that had just “discovered” fatherhood, I decided it was a good time to grab a quick bite to eat (is there ever a bad time to eat?). Unfortunately, I discovered the joys of food poisoning and had to be content with listening to my son cry over the phone in between QUICK interruptions.

Discharge day soon arrived and my wife and I were driving home on Christmas Eve with our son sleeping soundly in the car seat. We arrived at our apartment and when we finally closed the door and sat on the couch we looked first at the “bundle of joy” and then at each other and thought, oh crap, what do we do now?