After the standard hearty daily breakfast fair, I left my very pregnant wife with our fifteen month old son, for the fifteen minute drive to the small job shop I had fumbled my way into managing this past year. Even though our next son was due in a little over a week, it hadn’t been a topic that morning. The four nights each week I was attending school to finish my degree in two months, had been.

Just before the days of ultra sound pictures, it was mostly old wives-tails that forecast the gender of pending arrivals. “If you carried it high, it was going to be a girl, low was going to be a boy.” “If you showed from the back, it was going to be a girl, if not it was a boy.” LOL Actually it was the ‘hints’ from the doctor that gave you the secret answer that was most reliable, and they had become pretty good at it. With the medical advancements of the day, why wouldn’t they be? We now had a vaccine for even polio and people were surviving TB on a regular basis and somebody had actually transplanted a human heart to another person in South Africa just a few months before. The comments of “he’s doing fine” or “he should be right on time” were coming from “the doctor”. They wouldn’t make any guarantees, but they would give you their best educated guess with their code.

Life was almost past the hectic stage and shaping up well. With my high school sweetheart as my wife and the next son soon to arrive, it was finally coming together. I had made it back from the service pretty much OK and both school and work were moving along. She had worked the first few years and we had bought our first house , with the help of the GI bill that was also helping with school, shortly after No.1 son was born.

I got to work knowing it would be another long day and night, but feeling some subconscious satisfaction. When I walked in the door, the plant foreman immediately said my wife had just called and that her water had broke and to “go back home right now”. Like being hit with a 2 x 4, I think I said “Oh my god!” as I slammed the door behind me and jumped in the car. I was at the end of the street with my mind whirling in a completely unscheduled direction before I realized it was April Fools day. I had left my pregnant, but smiling wife twenty minutes ago and the doctor had said “I’ll see you next week” just the day before, during her checkup. As the reality was sinking in, I was getting a little pissed at them playing with such a matter. I didn’t know the details of why my very young ass had been brought in by the attorney partner to replace the other half owner yet, or why the foreman, who was my senior by quite a few years, who had been giving me an even shake under the awkward circumstance, would play such a joke.

As I walked back in the door, Bill met me again and asked what’s was the matter. I smiled with raised eyebrows and said “that’s not funny”. “I know it’s April 1.” He said, “She called just before you walked in the door. Now get the fuck out of here! I don’t play games like that. There was no question that his face was earnest and after what seemed like a ten minute mind and body freeze, I bolted back out the door saying “you better not be”.

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As I screech into my driveway, I’m running the flip-flop of what’s going on through my mind for the fifteen hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. As I’m vowing for the last time that this is going to get personal if this is a joke, our neighbor came out on the porch with my son in her arms and says she just got back from dropping my wife at the emergency door of our hospital four blocks away. I must have had that deer-in-the-headlights look as my mouth was saying words that had nothing to do with what my mind was processing. How could this all change and happen so fast? The bewildered look on Steph’s face (yep, her name was Stephanie. LMAO) said “what the hell is wrong with you? She’s the one having the baby!” as I jerked open the car door one more time.

It seemed to take longer to get to the hospital and park the car and get to the right desk than the whole morning had been until now. This was really happening. It wasn’t the “I think something’s happening” when she had woke me from a nap we had taken the Saturday evening after we both ate a steak dinner before our first son. There hadn’t been any two hours of timing contractions this time. By the time I was lead to the “father’s waiting room”, I starting to wonder if everything is alright. The room was empty except for the five chairs, the cigarette machine, and the small table in the center. There wasn’t even a two year old National Geographic in the room. The fathers waiting room wasn’t even on the same floor as the maternity ward. I already knew the elevator was right outside the door from last time, but I also knew that fathers had to be kept FAR away from mothers in labor. I guess they knew fathers would drive them nuts with questions if there was somebody to ask.

Was she going to have another two and a half hours of labor again? Was everything OK? The doctor seemed to think things were right just yesterday. How could all this happen so fast? Was something going on I didn’t know about? Was the preverbal cord wrapped around my baby’s neck? That was the most common birth complication. We thought being so close to the hospital and the doctor’s office was a great thing. He was in a building just down the street. My fist visit to this room was on New Years eve, just over a year ago. I thought then was maybe the nurses would try to hold her back that time to have the first New Years baby in the city and get their pictures in the paper or something, but not this time. He had been over a week overdue. This time he wasn’t even due for another nine days. I had to find SOMEBODY to find out what had gone wrong just as a nurse came in and told me to “go upstairs and turn to the right. Your baby in the window down the hall on the left.” WOW! …… Zip zing! I hadn’t been there a half hour and my son is born. There was no fooling around this Aril first! It seemed like the elevator was being pulled up to the next floor by a chipmunk running in a wheel. I knew here had to be stairs that would be faster, but it would take time to find them and I would lose time there. Besides I was already trapped in the slow-motion elevator.

This was fantastic! Everything had gone so fast. Everything was OK……………. Wasn’t it? Was my wife OK? How could there be a baby so fast from a woman who didn’t have a thing to say about it except “I want this to be over” just a few hours ago. Of course everything was OK with the baby. They wouldn’t send me to see my baby in the window if something had really gone wrong. My wife! Wouldn’t they tell me something different besides “go see your baby” if something was wrong? I took some BIG steps down the hall to the picture window. It was a room with rows of work carts with deep parts pans full of pink and blue blankets and babies. They had one cart up to the front window with a little red, naked girl baby in it. My eyes started to sweep around for my son. This had all happened so fast, I guess they hadn’t gotten him over here yet. An explosion happened in my head so fast that a bunch of unrelated facts flashed past in a jumbled order before my head started to move with my eyes. I focused on the pink tag on the cart that said
“Fanatic
Girl”.

***GONG***

I looked back down at the wrinkled, red, baby girl that was my .....DAUGHTER. The word “stun” suddenly was a completely new word to me. The only thing I am sure of is that the frozen man standing there WAS frozen for a LONG time, as a whole new window of life opened. As the flood of NEW concepts washed over me they never include the vision of what a magnificent person this beautiful women would become or the fantastic mother that the world was getting.

The puzzle? That was deciding on something immediately that had never been discussed. We had to find a name for our GIRL.

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Do I get Lixy points for that ^^^ ?

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I'm guessing a good Christian name was picked - Mary, Catherine, Elizabeth, Helen.

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When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and swing.

Christine Marie

Who would someday have Erin Kelsey and Shannon Casey.

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You get 6,000 Lixy points and an A+++ for running it all through spellcheck

Great story.

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The practice of putting women on pedestals began to die out when it was discovered that they could give orders better from there.~ Betty Grable

If I wanted your opinion, I'd remove the duct tape and ask you for it.~ Me
<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>
One man's dream is another man's nightmare~~~~> §¤ Lilith ¤§
~>My Scribbles<~
==>Gone Shopping<== ~Just a Quickie~ *~A Celebration Vacation~* ~Surprises~ Sleeping With the Window Open
What Did You Do Today? Self Defense Class ~Short Sweet Snippets~ § Summer Spin § Story Challenge Submission Pajamas

I was going to grade less on the spellcheck ... but the story was touching. Although, now I'm very curious what it would be like to live with the last name Fanatic. I sure hope she didn't keep the name upon marriage

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When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and swing.

Lixy will be so proud ......... but I burned out my spell checker

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F for me who has a clock she will never acknowledge ticking.






But if I was part of the population who added to it , I'd want something like that.

*backs away, ovaries aching*

LIXY POINTS ABOUND...

Geez dude...stop trying to scare all the pregger's (Lou) in da house!

























What a smilie story babe! TY!

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Minds are like parachutes. They only work when they are open.

~Thomas Dewar~

"smiles"

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I like the bed I'm sleeping in, just like me it's broken in; it's not old -- just older.
Like a favorite pair of torn blue jeans, this skin I'm in it's alright with me; it's not old -- just older.....Bon Jovi

Sweet

Thank you for sharing some of you, sweetie. You're a very lucky man.

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Life is too short not to love and be loved....preferably multiple times in one night.

I think men talk to women so they can sleep with them and women sleep with men so they can talk to them. ~ Jay McInerney

Babies......life's little wonder's.........

Good story...reminded me very much of the very different arrivals for the 2 (now not so) little Zoids, & how they all seem to pick that one moment when you're not quite ready for them (#2 son started his grand entrance when I had about 1 1/2 hours of sleep, just as the skies opened up a major whoopass storm)...

...& also reminded me that it's so unfair that they still don't allow fathers our choice of anethstesia for the procedure...

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Plug me into somethin'

If the theory does not conform to the facts, then the facts must be discarded.

No good deed ever goes unpunished

Never argue with an idiot. He'll drag you down to his level, & beat you with experience.