Sorry I’ve been away from the blog for a few days. Sorta small little life event happened last Wednesday night, at 11:47 p.m.:
I became a father.
It has been the craziest, most glorious, exhausting, roller-coaster-y six days of my life since last Tuesday, when my wife and I were told by her OB/GYN to report to the hospital ASAP to be induced for labor.
All of a sudden, this little person who’s been growing inside of her for 40 weeks would be on the outside, a living, breathing, huggable, kissable, crying person who would be totally dependent on us for everything.
After five final minutes of panic, the excitement set in.
I won’t bore you with the details of the 32 hours of pre-labor, transition and active labor, but suffice to say, our little boy was in no rush to come out. When it got to be 6 p.m on September 10th and my wife was still far from ready for delivery, we began to really worry that our first child would have a September 11 birthday, which just seems like a terrible way to start life.
But thanks to my wife’s awesomeness, some incredibly dedicated nurses, and a doctor who yelled “PUSH!” as aggressively as I’ve ever heard anyone yell anything, our bundle of joy arrived 13 minutes before midnight, sparing him the indignity of celebrating every year on a day when so many mourn and remember tragedy.
It’s funny; I tried to so hard to stay in the moment when he was born; to be in touch with all my feelings and commit them to memory forever like a “good father” would.
But honestly, all I remember was feeling excited when the nurses said “I can see hair on the head” and then squeezing my wife’s hands and reminding her to breathe and then in one miraculous moment, whoosh, the doctor pulled my 7-pound, 5-ounce son out and held him aloft like a sports trophy.
I believe I then uttered the word “holy” followed by a common swear word. Truly, I was stunned that all of a sudden this new person was immediately in the room, a bloody, crying, beautiful person who I will now love forever. The poor analogy I kept making to friends and family who asked what the moment was like? I said it was like watching a magic show and out of nowhere the magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat and you’re kinda amazed.
Since getting to take my boy home from the hospital on Saturday, there’ve been new experiences all over the place: I’ve changed my first diaper, become at least semi-proficient at swaddling, and learned there’s no greater joy than having your child fall asleep in your arms, as he did Sunday while we watched football.
I’ve learned some stuff about him, too: So far he’s not a big fan of burping, taking forever to release gas after eating. I’ve learned he’s really not a fan of being changed, but he’s quite happy being held by anybody and just can’t get enough of his Boppy pillow.
I must admit I don’t yet feel the bond with my son that my wife does; after all, they were together for 10 months, and he and I have just been pals for five days.
But man, I sure do look forward to all the days ahead. Fatherhood, so far, is all that everyone told me it would be, and I’ve loved every minute of it.
Two quick final notes: One, I swear on the life of Inigo Montoya that this blog will not become a one-note song of me reporting every little thing my little guy has done, and I also don’t know how often I’ll be blogging over the next few weeks, as we try to settle into a routine with this new resident of our apartment, and hey, with my sleep deprivation this blog might turn 38 percent stranger than it already is!
But I appreciate your patience and I promise to be back at you with football rants (Don’t get me started on that awful Jets loss to the Packers), political musings and stories of the weird and wonderful in our world.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go stare at my boy sleeping for a while. It’s way better than any TV show or movie I’ve ever seen.