(BloggerDad.com turned two months old on Saturday – still wearing a diaper, but at least no longer pooping all over the place. I’ve decided now would be a good time to tell you a story about another baby – my son. I’ll spare you the conception story – I’m saving that for the ‘Member’s Only Pay Section’
Instead, we’ll start with the day I found out I was going to be a father and we’ll work our way forward over the course of the week. Each day I’ll also ask you to share your story.)
My wife and I married in 2002. I was 32, she was 29. We both wanted children, though I always saw kids as something that would be nice to have… someday. You know, like a large screen TV or a Ferrari. In other words, I was in no rush. Women, however, are a little less cavalier about the matter. You know, the whole biological clock and all that womanly stuff I don’t pretend to comprehend.
We started trying to have a baby in late 2005 or so. It took some time and it was a bit frustrating for us. I’m pretty sure my sperm were holding out in attempts to “save me” from a life of fatherhood and parental responsibility. Eventually, they lost their battle and one of my swimmers found themselves lost in the deep end of the pool, saying, “uh, oh.”
I’ll never forget how my wife surprised me with the news. However, our recollections of the moment differ.
It was August 2006. I’d just come back home from visiting my friend in South Florida. My wife and I were standing in the kitchen and were about to go out to eat for my birthday dinner. She left the room for a moment, then came back and handed me a long jewelry box. I thought to myself, “oh crap, she got me a watch for my birthday! She knows I don’t like to wear watches. Man, I’m going to feel like a jerk if she picks up on my disappointment.”
I opened the box, mentally preparing to plaster a big fat smile on my face. Instead, a look of confusion washed over my mug.
“Is this a thermometer?” I asked, holding the pregnancy test in my hand. My mind hadn’t made the connection to what I was holding. It was seeing two plus two and coming up with 9,875. It’s kind of like seeing a canary in your refrigerator. You don’t expect to see a canary, so your brain takes a second to register what you’re looking at.
“No,” she said.
And then it hit me.
I saw the two lines.
“You’re pregnant?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
Now, here is where our accounts dovetail into two different stories – hers and the truth. ( I kid!)
What I remember:
Me saying something, though I can’t recall what, and hugging her.
What she remembers:
Me standing silent for an eternity, as if I’d just witnessed a jetliner crash into a school bus parked inches from a church/orphanage on a Sunday.
While our accounts differ, I do remember what I thought when she told me. It went something like this:
“RUN! Run as far and as fast as you can!”
No, not really.
So what DID I think? What did I do? Find out tomorrow in part two.
So, now it’s your turn. How did you either tell your significant other of your first pregnancy together or if you’re a guy, how did your girlfriend/wife/secretary tell you?
Click below to continue reading Our Baby Story.
- Our baby story – Part One: “Surprise, I’m pregnant”
- Our baby story – Part Two : I’m not ready!
- Our baby story – part Three: Everything changes
- Our baby story – part Four: uh oh, my water broke
- Our baby story part Five: Hello, world
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