Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Some not so breaking news about baby

[UPDATED: Added link to MetroDad post.]
A coupla' days ago, let's say Monday, was the first time that Mama definitely felt Baby moving around for an extended period of time. Although she had felt baby move previously, it had always just been a bump here or a bump there, but this was an extended series of taps. I had just left to walk Barky and Mama was laying in bed when Baby got busy with the kicks, or the punches, or combinations, if she or he takes after Mama's mad Tae Kwon Do skills.

It was exciting and relieving to know that baby's in there and well enough to move around. Our monthly appointment is this Friday, but we probably won't do much more than ask some questions and listen to the heartbeat. Then we'll schedule our ultrasound appointment, which should be in the next few weeks, and is when we find out if Baby is ready for prime time.

We should probably ask about the parenting class that, at our first appointment, they said they would hook us up with, and that will include, I think, a tour of the hospital. I suppose that we should also get on this stuff thing--as in, Baby will need some stuff--too. I know that I've written about it before, and that we're a little slackin' in that department, but I have been reading up on it, if that counts.

There's a lot more to it than one might expect, including the bizarre traditions that persist, such as cribs and crib mattresses being sold separately. Sure, adult beds are sold that way too, but we don't suffocate if the fit between the two isn't perfect. Since that is the case with cribs, you might think that a savvy manufacturer would sell a crib and mattress that are guaranteed to fit each other.

You might think, but they wouldn't.

Sometimes it's easy for me to get caught up in the anxiety of impending (some might say current, even though Baby's not our yet) fatherhood: will I be any good at this? What, exactly, is "this"? What will baby be like? What will baby need? What don't I have? What am I forgetting? What if I screw up toilet training and Baby turns out to be a Republican? Or doesn't like Bob Dylan?

OK, maybe I can't blame myself for that last one, but still. There's a lot to worry about, even before baby is around, as MetroDad wrote about.

I was sure that I was the only one who was worried if my swimmers were Mark Spitzs or Leonardo DiCaprios (from Titanic--that is, drowners, not swimmers). My worry stemmed, or so I thought, from my late bout of chicken pox--my freshman year of college. I don't know who pointed it out at the time, but I was made aware that one of the potential side effects of late age chicken pox is sterility. I think that may only be if you get a persistent high fever, but rather than check it out, I just let my worry fester, like a boy is liable to do. Ever since then I wondered if I had swimmers or drowners, but never really wanted to test the issue until I met Mama and we were ready for Baby. Of course, as we all know by now, I have at least one swimmer, but there were some pretty gripping moments of doubt in there. Fortunately for us, we didn't have to wait nearly as long as MetroDad to find out.

And now we have another swimmer, or kicker, or boxer, who's growing every day.

Cool.

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