Where My Head's At

Ever since my fiancee (Andrea) and I started telling people we're going to have a baby, one of the first questions (to me, anyway) is "are you ready." When she's still in the first trimester, it's pretty easy to say, "yeah, I think so." While that hasn't changed, it's definitely changed to a, "as ready as I can be." A subtle distinction, but a distinction nonetheless.

Andrea's due date is less than a month away and we're clear for a home birth in just a few days meaning that she really could go into labor any day now. This hadn't really struck me until I was at work selling tickets the other day and she called. Normally, I just ignore my phone in this circumstance since it would be pretty rude to stop a line of people coming to see a movie to take a personal call. But when I looked at the phone later and saw it was my fiancee, I realized that the time is coming for me to take my phone calls more seriously. I need a pin or sign that says something like, "My fiancee could give birth any minute. Your patience is appreciated," for when my phone buzzes (I keep it on vibrate).

Another strange realization I had was that after the baby is born, I'm going to spend a fair amount of time holding him (Oliver Henson). I'm not typically one who cottons to holding babies. There's always a fear that I'm going to get slimed in some way or another. In fact, the only babies that I know I've held without any prodding are my nieces and nephew and I think with my first niece it took some cajoling.

See how awkwardly my hand sits behind the head?

So, as I am wont to do these days, I was daydreaming about life with Oliver. Just sitting around, holding him and at some point I was ready to give him to someone else because it was time to go. Except that I'm now the one people will hand him over to, not the other way around. I can't express what a bizarre revelation this was. He's mine. Not some temporary presence like every other baby in my life has been. And that sliming fear? That's just going to be my life.

This isn't to say that I'm not stoked as hell for Oliver to be born. I spend an equal amount of time wondering if the Red Sox onesies will fit in time for Opening Day and if it really matters if they don't. And looking through some old pictures of my nieces trying to find the above photo made me really excited for all of the weird moments raising a child brings (I've always been a little jealous that I haven't been around to see more of my nieces and nephew's eccentricities and hearing about them from my sister always makes me smile). It's going to be crazy, but I think it will be fun.

(Although, the childbirth classes kind of made childbirth seem way more intense than I already viewed it. Yay knowledge!)