Seven years ago tomorrow our son was born. The day wasn't much different than today. Well, except I was younger, and had much less gray hair. I had just started my vacation and thought I'd have a couple of days to do some things around the house before he (or she, we didn't know at the time) came into our life. Jenn and I went out to dinner with my mom, had a nice big dinner and went home. Jenn went to bed early (any woman who has been pregnant would understand) and I stayed up to watch some TV (any guy...you know the rest). It must have been a great program because I was roused from my sleep by Jenn who wanted me to start timing some contractions.
After that things get kind of blurry. It's funny how time seems to flow differently depending on the situation. Take work for example; eight hours can seem like a lifetime. Having a baby born, though it can take 20 to 36 hours, can seem like it is less than a work day. Of course, I'm talking from the male perspective here. For the woman giving birth it may seem much longer. Until the drugs start flowing, I'm sure.
It's also funny the things you remember. I remember calling the doctor, my mom stopping by before going to work in the morning, the hippie on call doctor, taking a nap in an uncomfortable chair, getting breakfast (and feeling guilty Jenn couldn't have any, and a few other things I won't mention in case you are eating.
A few things do stand out. They had to have some neonatal doctors come in and wait for the baby to be born. It was more precautionary than anything, but there were some minor difficulties during the birthing process. Everything was fine, but it did make for a crowded room. Oh, I should mention that we didn't have a name picked out yet. We had narrowed it down to two and said we would decide when we saw him. Actually, now that I say that, we had some girls names ready too, but I can't remember them.
One of our favorite stories about the first day of his life is about gas. Isn't that always the way? He just had his first bottle and I was walking around with him and patting his back. He was so tiny, as most babies are, so I asked aloud to the room full of friends and family, "How will I know if he burps?" I figured something that little would make a little squeak sound when he burped. Was I wrong. He burped so loud he woke up the lady in the next room. I think he burps quieter now.
Now that little burper is seven and on his way to being able to beat up his old man. I need to start working out.