So we returned from Colorado after our blissful first week of marriage to get down to real life. We had our apartment. We both had jobs. We were actually doing real well, though we didn't know it at the time. The Queen worked in the dungeon at a bank counting money. I worked at the Fireplace job that cost me an eye.
I would say it was a nice and quiet life that allowed us plenty of time to get to know each other, but the thing is that that particualr period of time was so short, that I barely remember it. You see, things were about to change, and while we couldn't really decipher at the time whether the change was positive or negative, suffice to say, it was one big huge change that rocked not only our world, but came as very little surprise to several people.
The Queen complained a few weeks after the wedding about her stomach feeling very hard, and she didn't know why. It had been going on for several days, so we made a doctor's appointment for her and went in for her to be checked out. I went with her to drive just in case any kind of tests were done that might affect her drivability. She was examined and the doctor set us down to give us the results of the tests. The reason her stomach was getting hard was...
...she's pregnant. Not just a little pregnant; eight months pregnant! You'd never guess from the wedding pictures -- she looked good.
We were in shock. The doctor caught from our reactions that this was not in the plans, and given how far along she was and that we hadn't seen a doctor yet, he called the OB/GYN and setup an appointment ASAP to have her checked out. He added that we were not expecting this and to be gentle. Heh. We're expecting it now, aren't we?
So now comes the even funner task -- we've got to tell our families that we did, indeed, fool around prior to the wedding and produce a little something. Now, don't misunderstand me. One thing about the Queen and I is that we are somehow so darn fertile that it only takes once. All three children were produced without "trying", per se. Remove birth control, and bam! Insert child here.
So we went to her parents. We went in with something to tell and sat on the couch for a while. Finally, The Queen Mother says, "out with it, child." So we laid it out there, and there was silence for what felt like a week and a day. I got the lecture of a lifetime from her father, and he was right. You see, both of us are from traditional backgrounds, and this incident amounted to a dishonor upon him, so he was quite understandably upset.
My parents, by contrast were momentarily silent, and my father was more silent on the matter than my mother. She was cheerful right away about the prospect...and then we mentioned the whole "eight months" thing. That's when my dad did the "exhale." I don't know if you've ever had the pleasure of this non-verbalization of upsettedness, but basically, the lips are pursed and air flows through them producing a solid wind sound.
For both of us, that was probably the hardest day of our entire marriage. We've had all kinds of disagreements since, but as a couple, there was not much that could top revealing our indiscretion to our parents. It was not a fun day, but had to be done and once it was done, we could set our sights on dealing with this little surprise coming up.
A visit to the OB/GYN got her a battery of tests to make sure everything was going the way it sure. They were making up for missing the other seven months that they would normally be observing her, and she was already in the time frame where the women go in weekly. We got the works and after the ultrasound (which was not the first appointment, but fairly soon), a due date was determined.
I'd heard before that to figure a due date, you take the date of conception and add nine months plus a week. My due date was three weeks prior to the doctor's. Since I'm no surgeon, mine basically stayed in my mind, and the official one was passed around to the (still somewhat upset) relatives.
Family being family, though, the incident was placed behind us, and they also began to look forward to the impending delivery. We got lots of help from everyone including baby furniture from her parents to get us started with this little surprise. Only Darth Vader held out for a little bit as angry until he was reminded that family is always family and no matter what, we stand by each other.
We are in no way an Italian Mafia, but family is very important to us. We are very lucky to have a strong support structure around us that is willing to help at the drop of a hat, and they've been invaluable to our survival. On the one hand, it's been good, but on the other, it also spoils me quite a bit because I know in the back of my head I don't have to be fully self-sufficient. It's a habit I'm working to break since I actually do need to be self-sufficient, since it isn't fair to anyone else to depend on them very heavily for more than just moral support.
By the time my birthday rolled around, The Queen was looking very pregnant. She had gotten some maternity clothes and the baby gratefully took the additional room to grow. Our lives had settled down a little bit, though the fun of a pregnancy before we'd gotten a chance to really get to know each other living together presented a bump here and there. I supported her as well as I knew how, though, and we got on fairly well still.
One Saturday night, we decided to go out to a movie, and the Engineer was with us for reasons I don't remember. We started with a healthy dinner at none other than Arby's. The Queen generally did not like Arby's at the time, and it's a wonder we ended up there at all. She's better with it now that they've expanded their menu quite a bit, but at the time, she wasn't too hot on it.
I know when we were driving around, we ended up having to turn around on the expressway, and at the junction of Hwy 51 and 169 in Tulsa, there is a cloverleaf that allows you to take several of the leaves and circle around to whatever direction you want to go. This little action made the very pregnant Queen ill. From there, we went to see The Matrix, which was just awesome. It had a great plot, some downright clever cinematography and special effects, and lots of action.
We weren't going out with The Engineer regularly at that point, and we also really didn't have much to do at home, so after the movie, we parted company and went home.
She woke up around 2 the next morning with some odd feelings in her abdominal area. She said it felt like a pain moving from her back to her front. She said she'd walked around already, but they didn't subside. We got out the documentation they'd given us to see what labor pains were supposed to feel like and one of the descriptions matched what she was feeling, so we leisurely got everything together and drove to the hospital.
That's right, it was a leisurely drive. We didn't speed or otherwise break any traffic rules. Now, we weren't just putting along either; I mean, we were going the speed limit, but the nonsense you see in movies where they rush as fast as possible because "the baby is coming" is complete nonsense.
Now, on the way in, we did have an important thing to discuss that had never been settled. You may be wondering what could be so darn important to chat about during such an important drive. Well, we never decided on a name. Several were thrown around, but we never sat down and said "here it is." We did this with the other two, but for the first, we hadn't yet picked a name. I had one that I really liked, and The Queen had some that she was fond of. We each got a piece of the name and it was settled. We knew from the ultrasound that it was most likely a girl, so that's what we fixed on was a girl name.
We got to the hospital and got checked in. We had signed up for some class through the OB/GYN office, and got so far as the hospital tour the day before. That was lucky because it was fresh in our minds exactly where to go and what to do. We weren't prepared by any stretch of the imagination, but at the same time, we didn't have a prayer of being prepared. Let's face it; we had no idea what we were getting into.
Another discussion we had was when to call everyone. It was early in the morning and a Sunday, so we knew everyone would be resting or going to church, and we didn't want to bother them. Yeah, we got in so much trouble for that. Apparently, people want to be contacted at any hour for something like the birth of a child. Who knew?
Inside the delivery room, The Queen was in pain, and had previously asked for an epidural to ease it. They waited and waited and waited and by the time they planned on doing it, she was very dialated, so they tried to talk her out of it. Well, if you've ever had the pleasure of experiencing a pregnant woman in pain, you might know what an impossible task that is, so yeah, she got her drugs and she was much more pleasant after that.
Me? Oh, I'm not the important one in this story. My job was to be a rock of encouragement to the Queen who was enduring the experience of a lifetime. I held her hand and provided kind words. Isn't that nice? Well, the dad doesn't do anything in the delivery room but stand there. Again, unlike the movies, we don't run around like idiots performing crazy antics with the attending physician.
At one point, the baby's heart rate elevated, and mommy's went with it. I laid my hand on the Queen's tummy (on top of the baby) and spoke softly to her. Like a magic touch, both heart rates went down, so I guess it was stress.
This wasn't the first time I had interacted with the baby. I had read that the baby can hear you and your voice and the reason they get attached to mommy is recognizing the voice. Well, I spoke to her in the womb as well as playing music for her through a tape recorder. She was actually the only one I did this with for some reason; she's also currently the only one interested to any extent in music. Interesting. The Socialite, by contrast, is on the verge of being Art Girl.
Anyway, the time came for the doctor to come in and prepare to catch the baby. The room got very busy very quickly and preparations were made with their magic table of birthing goodies. And then it died down again. It was actually a very leisurely process where there was plenty of time for the doctor to talk to the Queen and I about what was going to happen. Some time later, dialation was checked and declared ready, the doctor got into position, so it was time to push.
But it wasn't long until the precious load dropped and we got ourselves one Rock Girl. We didn't know anything. As I looked into that face, I didn't understand the kind of attachment I'd have to that little person. I didn't know the level of commitment she would require. I didn't know how much I would want to give to her. I had no idea the level of unconditional love I would have for her.
At that moment, I was a father, and I quickly found that that position was something that could only be experienced. No one can begin to teach it. No one can tell you how it all works. The only thing you need to start is the commitment to follow through with it. You've got to want it bad enough, because God knows, if you don't want it, you won't make it.
At that time, I was so clueless, all I had was the devotion to try, and you know...that was good enough for the moment.
Monday, April 7, 2008
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