Wednesday, June 22, 2005

I read a whole book tonight...

My wife loves garage sales. Last year there was only one reason that I was allowed to drive by without stopping and that was if the garage sale was obviously just children's stuff. Now those seem to be the most desirable. I am not sure why though. I am all for buying used, recycling if you will, but name one item that our newborn will need that we won't prefer to buy new. Last weekend we came across a practical item. It was priced right. We would have saved money. It was in 'as new' condition. It was a breast pump!!! I refuse to buy 'as new' underwear, especially if they were designed to pump fluids from my privates. Why would we want a used breast pump?

Anyway, I bought a book, A Guy's Guide To Pregnancy, and read it from cover to cover tonight while sitting at Williams Coffee Pub. Most of the information was helpful, if not a little obvious. What surprised me though was how some of the topics had me crying into my coffee. When the book suggested that I share the late night feedings by bottling breastmilk (we are going to get a new pump) and letting my wife sleep I pictured sitting with our little Cletus in a rocking chair or on the floor under a window with fresh snow on the ground and a big moon out the window. When it talked about what will happen in the delivery room I pictured taking our child and sitting on the ground with Cletus between my crossed legs and leaning over as far as I could while using my arms as a big shield to ward of the world, the bright lights and the sterile hospital environment, looking straight down into our new child's face, tears dripping on the newest of new skin.

I am aware that I have a good imagination. I am also aware that I cry easily. Before I even saw my wife come into the church (all I could see was the top of her veil) I was in tears and I cried through the whole ceremony. I am not ashamed of my tears and I don't try to hide them. But holy crap, I'm going to need a camel back to get through delivery day. I'll be stealing ice-chips from my wife to fight off dehydration.


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