Whatta mighty good man.
I know a lot of folks have been following the goings on here at The Wink since I announced last fall that we were having another baby. I’ve not really gone into the birth story and I don’t think I will. It seems to me that they are always very moving and amazing…and long, so very, very long. It’s just not something you can really fit into a tidy little blog entry. What I can do is give you a little peek into why I am more in love than ever with Sean…ok, typing that I realize that for some people, hearing the gushing stories of happily married people can be about as exciting as, well, a birth story. I’ll try to keep it lively with pictures.
When we arrived at the hospital for Finley’s birth I was pretty well on my way to doing the deed, each step required great effort and my breathing was…wait for it…labored
Anyway, the doors were locked. All of them. We walked easily 400 yards back and forth, dusting the wee lass in my belly with the most colorful of language. Finally we found an intercom and got ourselves in (Under what I am sure was the amused and critical eye of the night watch people).
Then when we got to the elevators we needed to use to go up we found this:
That’s tape, big, nasty, you-shall-not-pass-through-these-parts-tape. We stood, dumbstruck. Eventually the handymen down the hall grunted something that sounded like, “Ya’gunf tuh ground.”
Then, having finally made our way around, we settled into our room and Sean immediately asked for a birthing ball for me. They brought it in some sort of impenetrable, industrial strength birthing ball condom, the irony of which killed me.
He has stayed up with me, rubbing my back and helping with burping as Finley has spent the last several nights from 10-2am awake, hungry and gassy.
He has dressed the girls in the morning.
He has entertained them at great
personal physical expense.
He has simply allowed me to tend to Finley without another care in the world…except maybe, that they’ll hurt him.
I love you, babe.