And so tomorrow Emsley will be, unbelievably, two months old. It's quite hard to believe. I've remarked that Kami and I have been together for almost ten years, and it's the longest we've ever been with someone on a regular basis that we haven't wanted to bite their noses. I've held Emsley every day for hours at a time for two months now. I've had spit-up ("throat milk," as I disgustingly call it) in my beard, poo on my forearm like I'm wearing elbow gloves, and I still go over the speed limit to try to get home as quick as I can to see my girls.
It feels like this whole process started last week, when in fact we've been preparing for Emsley for almost a year now (well, we've been preparing to be parents since the day we got married, but you know what I mean). A lot of people gave us advice - most of it good advice. Still, there were some things we heard that were just not helpful in the slightest. For instance:
"You have no idea the amount of pain you're going to be in"
Multiple people actually offered this little nugget. Of course, they were all referring to Kami - you know how many craps people give about how the dad feels? Zero craps. You know, if I walk around in the middle of the night, there's an 80% chance I'm going to hit something with the side of my knee. The certainty somehow makes it worse - as if I'm trying to be careful, but just can't keep from hurting myself. Glancing the corner of a chair with the outside of your ankle hurts, but it hurts even more when you're moderately sure it's actually going to happen.
Kami has a Spanish Inquisition-level of tolerance for pain. Kami was never under any sort of impression that she'd be able to make it to the YMCA for a spinning class two hours after giving birth. Still, I'm reminded of a line from Friends, where they say, "Is that your nostril? Pardon me while I push a pot roast through it." (Or something along those lines). You know who goes into labor thinking, "I bet this will be a breeze,"? NOBODY.
But the ends justify the means. Yes, it'll be painful, but there will be a beautiful little baby girl at the end of it. Like sliding down a rainbow to a pot of gold, if the rainbow is labor and contractions. But the fact that someone thought it would be ohsohelpful to go out of their way to say, "However much you think you're going to hurt - you might as well slap yourself in the nose with a hammer, because your tiny little squirrel brain can't fathom the pain you're going to feel." It's also incredibly self-serving, as though there's a club at the airport where the preferred guests get to slide a card and have access to orange juice and massages and teddy bears - and Kami just isn't going to be able to get in.
You don't tell someone, "You have no idea the amount of pain you're going to be in," without adding a little, "But I do NANNY NANNY BOO BOO" at the end. I hope they find a dead cockroach in their underwear. At the end of the day.
"You're going to be so tired."
Do I enjoy getting up for 60-90 minutes in the middle of the night for no reason? Absolutely not. I prefer to go to sleep, snap my fingers, and it be 5:30am (which isn't too far from what actually happens). But Emsley is not "no reason." Was I tired in the first few weeks of Emmy's life? Of course. If you're not tired in the first few weeks of having a child, then you need to help more - and I'll tell you that now so your wife doesn't have to, because that will be a shrill, one-sided conversation. And "conversation" indicates that there are two people talking - there won't be. You'll just stand there, holding a bottle, wishing you could somehow crawl into it.
I've talked before about sleep, and not sleeping, when having a baby. But the fact is, you'll be up in the middle of the night. It's just how it goes. But what the heck else are you supposed to do? It's not like your brother-in-law is in the other room crying to wake you up so you can bring him a sandwich. It's not as though you have to help a guy move in the middle of the night. As exhausted as we were the next day, there was something special about those 3am feedings. I'd sit with the tv off (because there is nothing worth watching at 3am - and you can only watch "Quick Pitch" on the MLB Network so many times) and just watch her eat. I'd rather not look back at these early days and say, "I don't really know what happened those first few months, because I couldn't drag my rear end out of bed, but at least I am rested." Of course we're going to be tired.
"Your life is going to change so much."
You mean that the part of our life where only our dogs were dependent on us, and we could run off to a concert, or to Atlanta for the weekend, any time we wanted? That's different now? You. Don't. Say.
Introducing a baby, whom - by the grace of God - we were able to create together has changed our lives, yes. But it has not changed in ways that we could not foresee. We knew we'd stay home more. We knew we'd probably not watch the rest of Band of Brothers while she is awake. We'd take it easy on horror movie binges. We knew we'd, yes, be tired.
Perhaps the only thing I wasn't expecting was how much I could love something that weighs ten pounds. I wasn't expecting how much deeper my love for Kami would grow with Emmy's addition (I didn't know that my love for her could grow deeper). So if that's what they meant, then, okay. I can see that. But no point have I thought, "This kid is great, but I really had my heart set on going to see Josh Rouse..."
So the next time you talk to someone who is pregnant, and their significant other, just remember this list. What should you say? Stay tuned...
Props on the Josh Rouse reference! :)
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