I remember that day when we found out we were pregnant. My wife’s face began shining with light from her heart. Our thoughts instantly went to diapers, cribs, blankets, etc. But after the consumer in us finally gave in to the parents in us, we began thinking again of the child. A girl or a boy? Did it matter? No. It didn’t. We were going to have a child. A wonderful, beautiful gift. We had been married and trying for about 3 or 4 years. This news made those years worth the wait.
Then she was born.
Wait. I’m getting ahead of myself here. She wasn’t born instantly as we all know. She began as a mood in my wife. Guys with kids know that mood. It’s that swinging mood that punches us in the face or kisses us behind the ear. Then it was the craving mood. Ice cream and pickles? I hear people mention that one every once in a while. Sorry guys. It’s normally much weirder than that. I’m not going to describe the combination of food that my wife craved because if you’ve just eaten your food won’t stay in your stomach.
Finally, I got used to the moods. But the moods were easy compared to the days in the hospital. Those days when your wife is screaming as if the child is ripping through her very heart on the way out. She’s screaming in such a manner that you’d do anything to take the pain away. So then the other screaming starts. The screaming that comes form the husband to the nurses to get his wife some darn pain medication. Then there’s the scream of the husband as his hands get crushed by his wife. And finally, there’s the scream of the child.
It’s a beautiful sound. Or so I’m told. They took her in the delivery room while I was outside talking to my mother. “Oh, it’ll be another 20 minutes Mr. White.” “Ooops. Sorry. She was ready in 5.” Thank you very much Ms. Nurse.
But then I saw her. My daughter. And I fell in love for the second time in my life.