I haven't written for a while, but nothing much has been going on. This whole pregnancy thing is like having a mood disorder. You find out you're pregnant (or that your wife is when you're driving to Home Depot and she casually drops, "I think I may be pregnant"... story for another day) and you initially don't know what to feel. It's scary but exciting. You can't tell anyone but you want to tell everyone. There are a few days of sorting out your emotions and then you get a confirmation, which means you have to pick a set of emotions and stick with 'em. After that, there's a period of awkward laughs and glances as relatives joke about you having a baby or ask why your wife is only drinking water when she's normally a booze hound (just kidding Danielle). Nothing is changing physically and no one knows, so no one asks questions. Then there is another peak when you spill the beans to your inner circle and everyone gets excited and of course you get excited because you can finally talk about it. Next is another period of nothing much happening until your wife finally gets a baby bump. Even though you are the only two who can see it, it's another confirmation that there is really something going on. Another lull. Then the ultrasound where you see something that resembles a kidney bean but the doctor assures you that it's your baby. Another lull. Now she's really getting a bump, people start buying things, you tell more people, you register for gifts, and everything is moving along. Another ultrasound, "It's a boy!". And now we arrive at the present. A lull followed by feeling him kick!
Danielle has felt him for a few weeks now, but I've been able to feel him within the past week. It's incredibly strange and alien-like and I can't imagine what it must feel like for Danielle. If I felt something poking around in my insides, the last emotion I'd be feeling would be any kind of happiness. I'd probably be thinking about getting to the bathroom and preparing for some kind of atomic blast from my... sorry. I'll keep it G rated for the children out there.
Other than that, we've still been doing some baby shopping. Now we look for cribs. Not just any crib though. Apparently it's more involved than that. It has to have a nice matching hutch/changing table/armoir/shelf system. It has to look nice. Not too formal, not too "babyish". "But he is a baby, Mike" you may say. Believe me, I'm on your side. I've tried explaining this to Danielle and that, not only is he a baby, but he's not going to give one ounce of green doo doo about his furniture. Still, Danielle insists there is some kind of zen balance we need to achieve. When I was a baby, I slept on a bed of nails to toughen me up. It prepared me for the humanitarian missions to Africa I was doing at 3 months in between my doctorate studies (Am I allowed to start using the old, "When I was your age..." bit yet?). As long as it's safe, I'm happy with whatever we finally get.
Baby's words of wisdom: "That's right dad. I can almost knock you out while naked, upside down, and covered in goo when you put your ear to mom's belly. You're mine!"
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