More hair than I do!

It is the second night home, I am too tired to blog about anything. I did want to post a picture for anyone who hasn't seen Amelia yet...

A letter to my wife

A little over two years ago, on our wedding day, I stood in front of our guests and gave a short speech I had written. In that speech, I said that all of my successes would be sweeter because I had you at my side. Tonight, we sit on the eve (potentially) of likely the greatest success we will ever have. I feel even more strongly about that sentiment than I ever knew I could. Indeed, life with Amelia will be sweeter because I have you. When I told you I wanted to try to have a baby, it was not simply because I wanted to be a father. It was because I wanted to be the father of YOUR child. It was because I realized how privileged I was to share this life and this experience with you. With certainty, there will be challenges ahead of proportions you and I have never imagined. I have confidence that our commitment to each other, as well as to Amelia, will more than carry us through. I thank you with all my heart for the daily flashes of brilliance you provide that consistently renew my joy of that commitment. In my life, I have not come across anyone with as much poise, as much understanding, or as much pure love of the little things as you. I cannot express to you how much your presence continually inspires me. You have pushed me to become the man that I am, you have challenged me to be the best father I can be, and when it's all said and done, I'll owe more to you than I can ever repay. Simply put, you are my greatest compliment. I opened with a reference to my wedding day speech. It only seems appropriate to close today the same way I did then - Meggan, you are the love of my life and it is truly an honor to have you as my bride.

Ode to the belly

We are still waiting on Mia to arrive. I've done everything I need to do to prepare for the baby. There isn't a speck of dust in my house. The dog is even clean. I even finally gave into Randall's pleas to tidy up all of my products in the bathroom. Big shout out to Jenn G. for saying that she puts her blow dryer away every day. So, now I have a basket for all of my lotions, powders, solutions and hair products, and I will say, it's really pretty but a real pain. I digress.

As I inch ever closer to d-day, I've taken a bit of time to reflect, and there are a few things I will miss about pregnancy. Most of all I will miss the belly. So many great things come along with the belly. You automatically have a conversation piece. When in doubt, talk about the baby. Of course, there are the kicks that remind you of the little person growing inside. These kicks even let you know that you already have things in common, such as Mia and I get really fussy when hungry. Then, there is a pro to the belly that maybe only I have experienced. One morning recently, I was putting in my contacts, and the thing most dreaded by contact lens wearers happened. I dropped one. I searched the vanity, the floor, no contact. Then, I looked down, and to my delight, there was the little sucker safely atop the belly. The belly had saved the day!

There are a lot of things I will not miss about pregnancy. One of which is the belly. I can't bend over or stand for too long. The worst is when you reach for something, and you realize that because of the belly, it is just out of your reach. You call for your go, go, gadget arms to no avail. One other con of the belly just happened for maybe the fourth time tonight. Randall and I were at the mall last night, and walked into a store. As I passed the sales girl, the conversation went something like this:

Salesgirl: **looking directly at the belly** "Whoa!"
My face: "No you didn't."
Salesgirl: "When are you due?"
Me: "Tomorrow."
Salesgirl: "Please keep control of your water."

Yes, that did happen.

So, from here out, every day could be my last day with the belly and the first day with my new daughter. For all of the good and all of the bad that has come with the belly. I will always miss having Amelia so close to me and being able to protect her from everything. So, I guess I will just have to do the best I can at protecting her from every bad thing as most parents do. And I will just make sure to throw in plenty of hugs to keep her close.

Last day

It was brought to my attention yesterday that it was the last time I was going to be at work as a "non-dad". While I suppose this fact hasn't been hiding too far below the surface, it never really dawned on me how many "lasts" I have had recently. Many of these were minor - my last time watching Lost in peace before the baby comes, the last non-children's movie at the theater for a while, the last time I could go to the gym without any real planning. Others were more significant - Meggan and I have taken our last weekend trip without a diaper bag, I've made my last decision that doesn't have my daughter at the forefront, and thankfully, I've seen the last video of a live birth that I will ever see. The more I think about it, the more powerful the sentiment...my life is changing forever. I can virtually hear the various chapters of my past closing; some faint, others like thunder. As hard as it can be to let go of the things you've grown to love and oftentimes take for granted, any hesitation eases completely when you think of how incredible the future will be. So, sure I have had many lasts throughout this pregnancy, but I am so gratefully eager to focus on all the FIRSTS that are coming my way. This week will be the first time I go to work bursting with pride as I show off pictures of my new baby. This week I will drive my car for the first time carrying the most precious cargo I will ever know. This week, for the first time, I will kiss my daughter's forehead as I wish her goodnight. This week will be the first time I get to watch Amelia sleep as I ask God if he will please be with me and help guide me as a father. This week, I will see the precious angel He's given me and realize that He's already here.

Update

Just a quick update because I can't figure out who I've talked to and who I haven't. The pregnancy brain is even making me forget what day it is. We are still waiting on Miss Amelia. I have been spending time walking the aisles of Target and Pier 1 trying to get things moving to no avail.

The Dr. said that if I don't go into labor before, she will induce me on Monday. So, at least the end is in sight and we will have our baby girl soon. I've just got to get through this whole labor deal before. Couldn't modern science in all of its accomplishments have figured out a way to extract the baby with a laser or something so that giving birth is just a quick outpatient procedure?

39 Never seemed like such a big number

For anyone who hasn't had a child, I will attempt to clue you in on how it feels to be a dad-in-waiting in the 39th week of pregnancy (Meggan will have to explain what it is like to be 39 weeks pregnant as I am not foolish enough to think I have ANY idea.) I cannot encompass all the thoughts and emotions I have gone through over the last 39 weeks in one blog post, so here is a quick rundown of weeks 1-38

- "I'm pregnant"; wow, I can't believe I'm going to be a dad. I am SO ready for this; I'm going to read and listen to everything I can to prepare; Really?!? 10 diapers a day?!? Feed them every 3 hours?!?; wow, I can't believe I'm going to be a dad. I am in NO WAY ready for this; How hard can it be to find a daycare?; An 18-month waiting list and $1,000 per month?!? How much can I get paid to donate plasma?; Well, the ultrasound looks like a gummi bear, but the heartbeat is the greatest sound I've ever heard; I'm not sure how we are going to afford all the baby stuff we need; I cannot believe the overwhelming support from friends and family. This baby thankfully has all she needs and more; I hope she looks just like her mother; Doh! The only thing cleared up by that ultrasound was that she has my butt-chin. These classes are making me feel more confident; Dear Lord, THAT is what a HEALTHY diaper looks like?!? YES! We are 3 centimeters. She is ON THE WAY; Crap! We are STILL 3 centimeters. She is never coming.

And that brings us to week 39. By now, I feel like we have read everything we are going to read, bought everything we are going to buy, and packed everything we are going to pack. We have plans, backup plans, and alternate backup plans for what to do with the dog. We have multiple generations of family members on travel standby. We are currently making Mia a lullaby mixtape. There really is nothing left to do but wait. The only comparable feeling I have ever had is at bedtime on December 24th. This is Christmas Eve - if it were in the movie Groundhog Day. Each night, we anxiously try to go to sleep wondering if Santa is coming. If he does come tonight, what is he bringing? Were we naughty or nice? We are too excited to sleep well, yet too scared to sit up and think about it. So far, each morning has come and gone with no Christmas. Perhaps tonight is the night? I'm not sure how much longer we can stand it, but I do know how much longer we will wait... as long as Amelia wants us to. This is probably a life lesson I should get used to.

Pregnancy does not become her

So, I am now 38 1/2 weeks pregnant. Incase you all want to know what that looks like, see exhibit A. Scary, right?

The anticipation is really getting to us, but at the same time the thought of going into labor sends me into panic. I'm staring this huge elephant, or marshmallow, if you will, in the face and there is no way over it, under it or around it, and noone can help me through it. Heck, noone can even tell me what to really expect.

Ask any woman who has gone through labor to describe what it feels like, and they draw a blank and give you a standard response, "you will just know." What?! I wonder if they are too scared to tell you for fear of freaking you out, or do they not remember, or was it honestly so painful, they can't compare it to anything in life. Scenario #3 is a bit worrisome, no lie.

Well, hopefully, I will come out on the other side of this healthy and with some piece of my former self in tact. Heck, I will settle for hands that don't look like Shrek's and feet that don't look like baking potatoes. One thing I'm sure of is that having Amelia finally here will make everything worth it, no matter what happens. I'm so excited to meet this little girl. Here's hoping she gets here soon!

Baby on Board

On my way to fatherhood I have seen just about all things baby. I've seen a 65 year old woman jump up and down at the pure excitement of a grandchild on the way. I've seen the miraculous transformation of a woman's body throughout pregnancy. I've seen socks so tiny they'd make Barbie's feet go numb. I've also seen every baby book currently in print, 4 live birth videos, and enough tiny pink dresses to keep all the sweatshops in the world running strong. That said, I can at least admit that most of the baby craze makes sense to me. I can understand why people get so excited. I see why new parents try to absorb every shred of information available. However, as my baby's arrival nears, I have started to notice some things I just can't explain.

Yesterday, on my way home, I was stuck behind a brown minivan with a "Baby on Board" window decal. Now, I'm very competitive, so any time I see a parent with something I wonder if I should have it...or a cooler, bigger version of it. So, I start thinking about getting a baby on board sign. Then it occurred to me that I have no idea what in the world a B.O.B. sign is really trying to say. Is it saying "Hey, I have a baby in here, so please don't hit me"? I'm not sure that's really a necessary statement to make. Frankly, it was not on my agenda to ram into the side of that rolling turd of a minivan. Perhaps it makes the statement "forgive me for driving slowly, I have precious cargo". Announcing to the world that your 15 year old minivan is not exactly going to set land speed records reminds me of 100 jokes I've heard about working for the Department of Redundancy Department. The only reasonable explanation I can think of is it is simply a badge of honor announcing your membership into the "Parents' club". This phenomenon can be seen in many other similar badges.... the 'HH' sticker for the "I have more money and more free time than you do" club. the 'my kid beat up your honor student' sticker for the "If you can't beat them or join them, make fun of them" club. And, finally, the 'DMB' sticker for the "I sit in my dorm room listening to the Dave Matthews Band while smoking more weed than Michael Phelps" club.

The second thing I can't wrap my head around is beef flavored baby food. Its not like any pureed foods look all that appetizing, but feeding Amelia what amounts to Beef pudding is just not something I'm feeling good about. I thought maybe it was just me, so I decided to ask my two prime sources for taste testing, Sophie and Kitty, how they would feel if I switched out their normal kibble with beef in a jar. They both emphatically proclaimed they would never let something THAT foul pass through their delicate lips. Sophie then proceeded to jump in the litter box and eat cat poo while kitty raised a dainty, freshly shorn leg in the air and licked her own butt....the tribe has spoken.

Finally, it has come to my attention that babies apparently can be used as fashion accessories. I do not understand this. I'll say this to clue in any parents who may think otherwise - your baby does not care if her ears are pierced, she does not know her nails are painted, and she does not get the pure hilarity of the "I stink, therefore I am" t-shirt you put on her. You did not do those things for her, you did them for you. You are not dressing up your baby doll, this is your baby. At what point do you put fashion and style before comfort? uhhh, never. Put your baby in the softest, safest, most comfortable clothes you can find. She will have years and years to suck in her belly and stuff it in pants two sizes too small, cram her feet into leather high heels , and spend 2 hours doing her hair and makeup. For now, let her be what she is ... a wonderful baby that doesn't need a stitch of clothing, an ounce of jewelry, or a hint of makeup to look absolutely beautiful.

Mia Watch 2009

Disclaimer: For all of Randall's adoring fans waiting with baited breath for his next installment on this blog, you are out of luck today. You are stuck with me.

It has been a crazy week! It has finally begun to sick in that I will actually be having a baby in the next two weeks. My doctor says that I'm progressing (I will spare you all the actual definition of that), but suffice it to say, we are getting close to show time, and I actually think we are as ready as we could be:

*read every baby book under the sun--check
*packed hospital bag--check
*put away all baby loot--check
*paint toes on feet that look like large baking potatoes (i.e. pedicure)--check
*put away some frozen meals for when the baby arrives--if by meals you mean one batch of lasagna--check
*installed car seat--check

Now, I am just sitting and making lists of things for Randall to clean, but don't worry I will leave him time to blog. ;) The countdown begins...