39 and Counting
Like a bucket of ice cold water dumped on my face in the middle of a deep sleep, the realization has hit me.
I am going to be a Dad in less than 6 weeks.
Sure, I was calm and collected about the entire thing up until right now. Through putting up a nursery, buying baby clothes, scanning little ultrasound pictures, and giggling through a breastfeeding class (I am as immature as you would suspect), I took it all in stride. I don't know what it was that set off the alarm bells, exactly, but somewhere over the last week I have realized that there's going to be a new little person living in my house that depends on me for EVERYTHING.
Does anyone know where I can buy a second-hand defibrillator?
We had our first of several baby profiles last week, and the little gaffer is a healthy five pounds in utero already. He has all his little fingers and toes, and is kicking up a storm inside Mommy's belly like there's no tomorrow. I didn't know what pure bliss was until I felt his little feet kicking against my back while Wendy slept the other night, and I almost can't go to sleep without it now.
Gifts have started trickling in for my son and his nursery - Including an amazing Steelers / Ducky quilt our great friend Lori hand-stitched and invested what had to be dozens of hours in, and the little guy's room has taken on the definite feel of a little person's home , instead of a collection of objects in a room.
This is really happening, and I would be a liar if I said that I'm taking it all in stride. I can't think of a time when I've been more excited / terrified in my entire life.
39 days... I hope my system can handle it.










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Hang in there big guy - it's all worth it!