Every night I kneel down next to my bed, fold my arms reverently, bow my head respectfully, and pray to the Lord asking for his divine intervention to be granted one of my dearest desires. What is this desire you ask, I want to be crazy. Now, I'm not talking about a split personality, delusions of grandeur, or schizophrenia. Those mental illnesses lack a measure of commitment. I want to be 100% undeniably crazy. There are so many advantages to being really crazy. I'm not talking about the lethal advantages that get an out of jail free card that comes with committing murder while insane, I'm talking about social advantages. What could these advantages be? Read further for a few reasons and maybe you to will want to join me in the nut house.
1) You can wear anything you want. Everyone has seen the old Asian woman walking through the street market wearing polyester plaid golf pants and a rayon paisley shirt that's two sizes to big. That's not crazy, that's sad. It's a sickness really that needs its own twelve step program. When one is openly crazy you can get away with wearing a toga to the mall, a big bird costume to your kids school play, and the back end of a horse costume to get the mail. Your fashion choices are limitless. Before going crazy you really need to practice this one. You don't want to put something on that isn't in your color wheel. Crazy is great, ignorance is not.
2) You can be anyone you want to be. Part of the American dream is that if you work hard you can be whatever you want. You can be a doctor, lawyer, and if you work really hard by the time your fifty you have the chance of owning your own hot dog cart in New York City. They are all THINGS you can be, I said anyone. You can be a fictional character, someone from the future, or anyone from history. I have a few people I want to be. I want to be Queen Victoria, Marilyn Monroe, and Minnie Mouse. Their have been a lot of crazies in literature and throughout history. Take Elizabeth Bathory, she used to drain the blood from servant girls and bathe in it because she believed it would maintain her beauty. Jim Jones poisoned hundreds of his followers by forcing them to drink cyanide laced grape flavored Kool Aid. Emporer Nero. Contrary to the popular saying, Nero did not fiddle while Rome burned. He is famous for blowing all the money in the empirical treasury to build massive works of art, stadiums, and theaters where he would perform plays he wrote himself and would often last for six hours or more. When you go crazy if your avatar is a crazy from history I salute you for your dedication to the crazy cause.
3) You can say anything you want to anybody real or imaginary. I have started using this one prior to being completely crazy. It is so much fun. If I need to say something to someone I just say it. I don't try to protect their feelings. I'm quick and to the point. You'd be amazed at how well people accept this. Most of the time they like being told the truth with out the sugar coating. When you add crazy to the mix you don't have to stop with being blunt, you can be downright rude. You can say to a bride on her wedding day,"who are you kidding. Do you really think anyone is going to think you should be wearing a white wedding dress. And while I'm at it you really need take the majority of that make up off. If your trying to convince people you're a virgin, you shouldn't look like a whore." You can tell a cop that pulled you over, "what are you talking about? I wasn't speeding and if I was speeding so were you. You pulled me over for crying outloud. Oh and by the way, that bullet proof vest makes you look like a wimp. Oh yeah, I'd watch that partner of yours.He stroking the shotgun and looking at you with extreme hatred." To the little kid waiting in line to see Santa, "You know Santa's dead right? There was a riot in the toy making barn. He fell into a machine making stuffed animals and he was turned into stuffing soaked with blood and guts."
4) You can now be hired to work in a job that requires you to be nuts. Every industry has a department or fringe that commonly attract the crazy. Like kindergarten teachers, a spokeswoman for an insurance company, and people who run a bed and breakfast that's haunted or built in the middle of a lava flow. Some industries are dedicated to the crazy. Take people who dress up like characters at amusement parks. How else could they handle hundreds of screaming kids with snot running down their faces mobbing you with autograph requests, hugs, and pictures. Cab drivers. No one but the insane would think it's a good idea to completely cover your dashboard with bobblehead dolls, hang fringe around the entire roof of the car, install a horn that plays music by a Mexican horn band, and think you care about his great grandmother still living in Pakistan suffering from gout and arthritis. Professional wrestler. No one this side of the barbed wire fence of a state hospital would agree that being slammed into a mat by some one the size of Goliath would make a great career.
5) You are instantly famous. If you live in a small town or are part of a neighborhood everyone knows you. People smile at you like they would a small child and say hi. They have probably given you a nickname like Mr Happy or The Empress of Little Italy. You may even have a series of urban legends explaining how you got the way you are. Maybe they think your mom used to wash her clothes in your bath, while you were still in it. Or they could think you woke up one night and butchered your family with a replica Viking battle axe causing you to go nuts. They may think you were raised by a she wolf and had a hard time assimilating back into the human population. Maybe you were abducted by aliens that conducted experiments on your body leaving you ten cards short of a full deck.
So next time you see your local crazy person don't look at them with pity or fear. Look on them with envy and respect. They have achieved what many of us want, a unique identity. They have no problem with the world because they don't live in the world, they live in a fairy world where they are the center and everyone else is just scenery.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Children
I am Katie Drake and I love to laugh! I learned very quickly that if you don't laugh through life you will cry. I believe that everything we have comes from God and that God has a sense of humor. If he doesn't have a sense of humor, how do you explain things like the mullet, renaissance reenactors, and straight men who like Glee. I am going to talk about one of the many blessings heaped upon us by the lord, children. More specifically, about things kids think and say and how they are completely wrong.
I believe that we all lived in heaven before we were born and that before man came to the Earth we were allowed to choose our families. I took this a little bit too literally. My mom has six kids and I used to think that when she had a baby the doctor would cut open her belly and inside would be Jesus holding dozens of kids for my mom to choose. For anyone who doesn't know, I was wrong. Giving birth is not all choirs of angels and rays of sunlight. I didn't realize how true that was until I gave birth to my daughter.
For anyone expecting their first child you probably imagine the big day going something like this. It's after midnight, you and your wife are sleeping soundly in your bed. Suddenly you are awakened by a gentle tap to the shoulder. You wake up to find your beautiful glowing wife whispering in your ear, "it's time." You have a long embrace then calmly climb out of bed. The two of you get dressed (your beautiful wife even does her makeup and hair). You carefully help your wife into your four door sedan with the baby seat strapped into the back seat. You drive slowly to the hospital avoiding any pot holes and speed bumps. You put your wife in a wheel chair and roll her to the labor and delivery department. You are greeted by a team of caring professional nurses and doctors that attend to your every need and are completely humbled that you would allow them to be part of the most momentous day of your life. Shortly after your mother and mother in law arrive with smiles on their faces. They hold hands and skip into your wife's delivery suite. They kiss, hug, and cry anticipating the miracle that is to come. Your wife labors for several hours, but like the superwoman she is she never once asks for drugs or an epidural. The doctor comes in and tells you it's time to push. Your wife pushes two or three times and after months of waiting a beautiful, clean, sleeping, calm baby boy is brought into this world with a strong resemblance to his loving father. You name him after yourself and his grandfather giving him a name he can be proud of. Your wife declares she will only nurse her baby and that he will never know a bottle. You and your wife are taken to her hospital room that is filled with flowers, balloons, cards, and well wishes. The day comes to take your angel home. You wave good by to the hospital staff, that you have gotten to know so well you have invited the entire hospital over for a barbque the next weekend, and drive away with your precious cargo in the back seat. You bring the sleeping angelic child into the house and place him in his crib. His nursery, that looks like a designer was hired to decorate but really it was done by your multi talented wife, is spotless, calm, soothing, and has classical music playing softly from a built in wall speaker that doubles as a baby monitor. You stare down at your beautiful new boy then stare into each other’s eyes at last feeling whole and complete.
This is what diaper and formula companies would like you to believe because if you knew the truth no one would have babies causing the diaper and formula companies to go bankrupt and end the human race. The truth is a far more disgusting, horrifying, and disturbing than anyone can grasp until they witness it for themselves. It can be so awful that hospitals should provide post traumatic stress counseling to all doctors, nurses, parents, family members, and babies present in the delivery room or within earshot of the delivery room. Here's how it really happens.
It's after midnight, you and your wife are laying in your bed. She keeps tossing and turning making it impossible for you to sleep. The baby is pushing so hard against her stomach that she feels like that guy from Alien. You want to say something to try to comfort your wife and let her know she is keeping you up but you are to afraid. Last time you said something she tried to chew your face off with her teeth then erupted into tears because she "knows" you don't find her sexy anymore. You tried to reassure her but she knows the truth. How can you be sexually attracted to someone that looks like she ate the planet Venus for her mid afternoon snack? Your wife is five days past her due date and with each passing day she turns more and more into the fabled medussa than you thought humanly possible. She continues to toss and turn and you wonder how many days a person can go without sleep before they become completely insane. Based on your own observations you determine that was three days ago.
Suddenly your wife sits bolt upright and wraps her fingers around your upper arm in a death grip that would put Darth Vadar to shame. She yells as if she were yelling through a megaphone, "get up, you have to take me to the hospital NOW!" You have learned not to dispute her so you jump out of bed and start to change your clothes. Your wife sees what you are doing and attacks, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!? I'm having a baby and your putting on your Sunday best! Don't even think about it! To the car now! And don't forget my suitcase!!" You grab the suitcase as your hopping on one foot trying to put your pajama bottoms back on. When you get to the door you look over your shoulder to make sure she won't catch wasting time by sliding your flip flops on and run for the car. You start the car and drive out of the garage to see your wife has beaten you to the front porch. You rush out of the car apologizing profusely for making her wait. She doesn't say anything but "DRIVE". You make it to the hospital. When you try to go in to find a wheel chair for your wife she scolds you saying it will take too long for you and your pea size brain to locate a wheel chair in a hospital and proves she can walk just fine. You don't object, you know that would be suicide. When you get to labor and delivery you walk into a triage that would not be out of place on a battlefield. Nurses and doctors are running from one end of the unit to the other ignoring you and your wife. You can hear the screams of other laboring women filling the halls. You try to stop a nurse to tell her your wife is in labor. She compassionately says, "take a number." You know you must report what the nurse said to your wife but you can't seem to move. You know if you tell her they're busy she will probably filet you right there and eat your raw flesh from your bones. You boldly grab another passing nurse by the arm and demand they admit your wife. She looks at you with distain and tells you there are no open beds so she will have to wait. You don't know what to do. If you go back to your wife with that she will probably light you on fire and parade your flaming body around the hospital as a warning to other inconsiderate husbands. You cannot let go of the nurse. She looks at the tears streaming down your face and says, "where's your wife." SALVATION!!! You would have kissed the nurse but you know your wife is using her x ray vision and if she catches you she will peel the skin off your body in long thin sheets. The nurse walks boldly up to your wife and tells her the situation. You fear for the life of the nurse and subconsciously start picking out the flower arrangement to send to her funeral. Surprisingly your wife takes it in stride and sits down. You creep back to your wife sheepishly sitting next to her. With every contraction she doubles over in pain. You try to rub her back like they taught in the birthing classes but find they left out a crucial step. They never told you to wear full hockey gear to guard you from the backhands and punches your wife throws your way.
Finally, a room is available and your wife is admitted. If you thought all your troubles were over you would be wrong. Just as the nurse leaves your wife's room she gets her first REAL contraction. She folds her body in half so much that you think her spine is going to pop through her skin. This can't be normal so you run to find the nurse to tell her you think the baby is coming. When you find a nurse she looks at you like you are still trying to grasp the complex concepts taught by Sesame Street and tells you she'll be in to see her in a minute. Thirty minutes later the nurse finds you cowered in a corner rocking back and forth as your wife's red eyes shoot daggers through your heart. Before the nurse can say anything your wife yells, "epidural, NOW!" Again you think you will be saved. You think you will be saved until the nurse says, "ok, I'll call the anesthesiologist. He should be up here in about twenty minutes." The nurse turns and leaves the room. You know that it will take divine intervention for you to last another twenty minutes. Your brain starts to fold in on itself as you gradually lose your grip on reality. A man walks through the front door, at first you think he is the angel Gabriel by the way your wife looks at him. In her eyes he is the only useful man on the planet. He is the anesthesiologist. You crawl on your hands and knees vowing to worship him forever and you promise him the child in your wife's belly as an indentured servant. He taps you on the head assuring you that wouldn't be necessary. This only deepens your devotion and you kiss the hem of his scrub pants vowing your undying loyalty. He places a plastic container of medical instruments on the table next to the bed and tells your wife she has to bend in half so he can ram a two foot long needle into her spine and that the only risks are paralization. Your wife doesn't care and immediately agrees to the procedure. He picks the needle up and jams it into your wife's spine. Your wife doesn't flinch but you almost faint. When he removes the needle a long thin tube is sticking out of your wife's back attached to a bag of medicine. He leaves and before he could close the door your wife is sleeping for the first time in months.
You use this brief lull in the excitement to gather your thoughts and try to remember why you chose to go through this. Your wife has been asleep for no more than a half hour when the doctor arrives to break her water. You expected to see the same amount of fluid as when you have to pee after a long drive in the car. What you didn't expect was the same amount of liquid that flows over Niagra Falls on any given day. The doctor tells you both to rest and he will be back shortly. He returns about an hour later to tell your wife it's time to push. You begin to weep. The past nine months have been hell on Earth but it was about to be over. Your wife pushes for the first time. Something happens that also was not discussed in the childbirth classes. You are grateful that your wife is no longer in pain but over the past nine months you never connected pushing a baby out to be the same action as evacuating your bowels. The entire contents of your wife's colon is on the table in front of the doctor. The doctor acts like someone did not almost fill his shoes with fecal material and the nurse cleans it up in under five seconds. Your wife pushes again. You don't want to know what will come out next. She pushes and pushes and pushes and pushes some more. She pushes for two entire hours. The doctor starts to worry about the safety of the baby and tells you wife they may need to do a C section. She yells "NNNOOO!" and with one final push your wife has given birth to a half alien, half old man, half rolly polly bug covered in blood, slime, and cottage cheese. The doctor quickly places the disgusting creature on top of your wife. Your wife starts to cry saying she has the most beautiful baby ever. Until that point you were hoping the thing that came out of your wife is a tumor and will be thrown into a medical waste bin, it hit's you that this is your child. This thing writhing and screaming in your wife's arms is the reason to practice abstinence. If a young teenage boy were to see this he would be scarred for life. His hair would turn white, he would stop speaking, and would only react when someone yelled "push". You are startled when the doctor orders your wife to give one final push. For a brief moment you are terrified that maybe your wife was carrying two tumors. What you see is so much worse. A huge blob of bloody tissue is expelled from your wife. Just as you start dialing the phone to call your priest to perform and exorcism the doctor tells your wife the placenta is out.
The nurses take the baby to look him over and clean him up. You fall down into the chair. Your legs could no longer bear your weight. Your mother and mother in law storm the room rushing to your wife's side. They start to argue over who he looks like more and what family member he's going to be named for. Punches start to fly and they are escorted out of the hospital by security. You ask your wife what to name him. She looks down at the baby and softly says, "Fergus." You think it an odd name but agree. A short time later you realize your wife just named your son after her junior high school boyfriend. You are to tired to care. They take your wife to her barren room. The next few days bring several more unexpected treats. What should be as natural as breathing is not. You learn that nursing a child takes work and the process has turned your wife's nipples into raw hamburger. She cries every time she tries to feed him from the pain. You ask her if she wants to use a bottle and she says "no. This is better for him." You try to figure out how being fed by hysterical crying mother everyday could lead to anything but a future therapy bill. The first night you are exhausted and you believe your wife should be as well. You fall asleep in the chair in her room, she stays awake watching tv all night. Again the child birthing class didn't tell you your wife would be so high on adrenaline she would stay awake for three straight days. You take the baby home and the real fun begins. He wakes up every hour wanting to be fed and/or changed. He cries for no reason, he vomits more than he eats, his body has the stability of jello, and no matter what the diapers say, it does not absorb baby poop. Every time you take him out it's like packing to cross the plains in a covered wagon. You have to take at least thirteen spare outfits, enough diapers to keep a retirement home supplied for ten years, toys, blankets, pacifiers, medicine, strollers, car seats, wipes, burp cloths, a camera, and a stack of pictures to show people how cute he is when they aren't around. Still it doesn't really matter how he has changed your life or upset your routine, you find yourself falling in love with the half alien half old man half roley poley bug. You start to realize that someone elses comfort takes precedents over your own needs. You realize you have the responsibility of caring, nurturing, and raising this amazing miracle. You're worried that your best won't be good enough but if you can remember the way you feel right now you will never question why you did it.
I believe that we all lived in heaven before we were born and that before man came to the Earth we were allowed to choose our families. I took this a little bit too literally. My mom has six kids and I used to think that when she had a baby the doctor would cut open her belly and inside would be Jesus holding dozens of kids for my mom to choose. For anyone who doesn't know, I was wrong. Giving birth is not all choirs of angels and rays of sunlight. I didn't realize how true that was until I gave birth to my daughter.
For anyone expecting their first child you probably imagine the big day going something like this. It's after midnight, you and your wife are sleeping soundly in your bed. Suddenly you are awakened by a gentle tap to the shoulder. You wake up to find your beautiful glowing wife whispering in your ear, "it's time." You have a long embrace then calmly climb out of bed. The two of you get dressed (your beautiful wife even does her makeup and hair). You carefully help your wife into your four door sedan with the baby seat strapped into the back seat. You drive slowly to the hospital avoiding any pot holes and speed bumps. You put your wife in a wheel chair and roll her to the labor and delivery department. You are greeted by a team of caring professional nurses and doctors that attend to your every need and are completely humbled that you would allow them to be part of the most momentous day of your life. Shortly after your mother and mother in law arrive with smiles on their faces. They hold hands and skip into your wife's delivery suite. They kiss, hug, and cry anticipating the miracle that is to come. Your wife labors for several hours, but like the superwoman she is she never once asks for drugs or an epidural. The doctor comes in and tells you it's time to push. Your wife pushes two or three times and after months of waiting a beautiful, clean, sleeping, calm baby boy is brought into this world with a strong resemblance to his loving father. You name him after yourself and his grandfather giving him a name he can be proud of. Your wife declares she will only nurse her baby and that he will never know a bottle. You and your wife are taken to her hospital room that is filled with flowers, balloons, cards, and well wishes. The day comes to take your angel home. You wave good by to the hospital staff, that you have gotten to know so well you have invited the entire hospital over for a barbque the next weekend, and drive away with your precious cargo in the back seat. You bring the sleeping angelic child into the house and place him in his crib. His nursery, that looks like a designer was hired to decorate but really it was done by your multi talented wife, is spotless, calm, soothing, and has classical music playing softly from a built in wall speaker that doubles as a baby monitor. You stare down at your beautiful new boy then stare into each other’s eyes at last feeling whole and complete.
This is what diaper and formula companies would like you to believe because if you knew the truth no one would have babies causing the diaper and formula companies to go bankrupt and end the human race. The truth is a far more disgusting, horrifying, and disturbing than anyone can grasp until they witness it for themselves. It can be so awful that hospitals should provide post traumatic stress counseling to all doctors, nurses, parents, family members, and babies present in the delivery room or within earshot of the delivery room. Here's how it really happens.
It's after midnight, you and your wife are laying in your bed. She keeps tossing and turning making it impossible for you to sleep. The baby is pushing so hard against her stomach that she feels like that guy from Alien. You want to say something to try to comfort your wife and let her know she is keeping you up but you are to afraid. Last time you said something she tried to chew your face off with her teeth then erupted into tears because she "knows" you don't find her sexy anymore. You tried to reassure her but she knows the truth. How can you be sexually attracted to someone that looks like she ate the planet Venus for her mid afternoon snack? Your wife is five days past her due date and with each passing day she turns more and more into the fabled medussa than you thought humanly possible. She continues to toss and turn and you wonder how many days a person can go without sleep before they become completely insane. Based on your own observations you determine that was three days ago.
Suddenly your wife sits bolt upright and wraps her fingers around your upper arm in a death grip that would put Darth Vadar to shame. She yells as if she were yelling through a megaphone, "get up, you have to take me to the hospital NOW!" You have learned not to dispute her so you jump out of bed and start to change your clothes. Your wife sees what you are doing and attacks, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!? I'm having a baby and your putting on your Sunday best! Don't even think about it! To the car now! And don't forget my suitcase!!" You grab the suitcase as your hopping on one foot trying to put your pajama bottoms back on. When you get to the door you look over your shoulder to make sure she won't catch wasting time by sliding your flip flops on and run for the car. You start the car and drive out of the garage to see your wife has beaten you to the front porch. You rush out of the car apologizing profusely for making her wait. She doesn't say anything but "DRIVE". You make it to the hospital. When you try to go in to find a wheel chair for your wife she scolds you saying it will take too long for you and your pea size brain to locate a wheel chair in a hospital and proves she can walk just fine. You don't object, you know that would be suicide. When you get to labor and delivery you walk into a triage that would not be out of place on a battlefield. Nurses and doctors are running from one end of the unit to the other ignoring you and your wife. You can hear the screams of other laboring women filling the halls. You try to stop a nurse to tell her your wife is in labor. She compassionately says, "take a number." You know you must report what the nurse said to your wife but you can't seem to move. You know if you tell her they're busy she will probably filet you right there and eat your raw flesh from your bones. You boldly grab another passing nurse by the arm and demand they admit your wife. She looks at you with distain and tells you there are no open beds so she will have to wait. You don't know what to do. If you go back to your wife with that she will probably light you on fire and parade your flaming body around the hospital as a warning to other inconsiderate husbands. You cannot let go of the nurse. She looks at the tears streaming down your face and says, "where's your wife." SALVATION!!! You would have kissed the nurse but you know your wife is using her x ray vision and if she catches you she will peel the skin off your body in long thin sheets. The nurse walks boldly up to your wife and tells her the situation. You fear for the life of the nurse and subconsciously start picking out the flower arrangement to send to her funeral. Surprisingly your wife takes it in stride and sits down. You creep back to your wife sheepishly sitting next to her. With every contraction she doubles over in pain. You try to rub her back like they taught in the birthing classes but find they left out a crucial step. They never told you to wear full hockey gear to guard you from the backhands and punches your wife throws your way.
Finally, a room is available and your wife is admitted. If you thought all your troubles were over you would be wrong. Just as the nurse leaves your wife's room she gets her first REAL contraction. She folds her body in half so much that you think her spine is going to pop through her skin. This can't be normal so you run to find the nurse to tell her you think the baby is coming. When you find a nurse she looks at you like you are still trying to grasp the complex concepts taught by Sesame Street and tells you she'll be in to see her in a minute. Thirty minutes later the nurse finds you cowered in a corner rocking back and forth as your wife's red eyes shoot daggers through your heart. Before the nurse can say anything your wife yells, "epidural, NOW!" Again you think you will be saved. You think you will be saved until the nurse says, "ok, I'll call the anesthesiologist. He should be up here in about twenty minutes." The nurse turns and leaves the room. You know that it will take divine intervention for you to last another twenty minutes. Your brain starts to fold in on itself as you gradually lose your grip on reality. A man walks through the front door, at first you think he is the angel Gabriel by the way your wife looks at him. In her eyes he is the only useful man on the planet. He is the anesthesiologist. You crawl on your hands and knees vowing to worship him forever and you promise him the child in your wife's belly as an indentured servant. He taps you on the head assuring you that wouldn't be necessary. This only deepens your devotion and you kiss the hem of his scrub pants vowing your undying loyalty. He places a plastic container of medical instruments on the table next to the bed and tells your wife she has to bend in half so he can ram a two foot long needle into her spine and that the only risks are paralization. Your wife doesn't care and immediately agrees to the procedure. He picks the needle up and jams it into your wife's spine. Your wife doesn't flinch but you almost faint. When he removes the needle a long thin tube is sticking out of your wife's back attached to a bag of medicine. He leaves and before he could close the door your wife is sleeping for the first time in months.
You use this brief lull in the excitement to gather your thoughts and try to remember why you chose to go through this. Your wife has been asleep for no more than a half hour when the doctor arrives to break her water. You expected to see the same amount of fluid as when you have to pee after a long drive in the car. What you didn't expect was the same amount of liquid that flows over Niagra Falls on any given day. The doctor tells you both to rest and he will be back shortly. He returns about an hour later to tell your wife it's time to push. You begin to weep. The past nine months have been hell on Earth but it was about to be over. Your wife pushes for the first time. Something happens that also was not discussed in the childbirth classes. You are grateful that your wife is no longer in pain but over the past nine months you never connected pushing a baby out to be the same action as evacuating your bowels. The entire contents of your wife's colon is on the table in front of the doctor. The doctor acts like someone did not almost fill his shoes with fecal material and the nurse cleans it up in under five seconds. Your wife pushes again. You don't want to know what will come out next. She pushes and pushes and pushes and pushes some more. She pushes for two entire hours. The doctor starts to worry about the safety of the baby and tells you wife they may need to do a C section. She yells "NNNOOO!" and with one final push your wife has given birth to a half alien, half old man, half rolly polly bug covered in blood, slime, and cottage cheese. The doctor quickly places the disgusting creature on top of your wife. Your wife starts to cry saying she has the most beautiful baby ever. Until that point you were hoping the thing that came out of your wife is a tumor and will be thrown into a medical waste bin, it hit's you that this is your child. This thing writhing and screaming in your wife's arms is the reason to practice abstinence. If a young teenage boy were to see this he would be scarred for life. His hair would turn white, he would stop speaking, and would only react when someone yelled "push". You are startled when the doctor orders your wife to give one final push. For a brief moment you are terrified that maybe your wife was carrying two tumors. What you see is so much worse. A huge blob of bloody tissue is expelled from your wife. Just as you start dialing the phone to call your priest to perform and exorcism the doctor tells your wife the placenta is out.
The nurses take the baby to look him over and clean him up. You fall down into the chair. Your legs could no longer bear your weight. Your mother and mother in law storm the room rushing to your wife's side. They start to argue over who he looks like more and what family member he's going to be named for. Punches start to fly and they are escorted out of the hospital by security. You ask your wife what to name him. She looks down at the baby and softly says, "Fergus." You think it an odd name but agree. A short time later you realize your wife just named your son after her junior high school boyfriend. You are to tired to care. They take your wife to her barren room. The next few days bring several more unexpected treats. What should be as natural as breathing is not. You learn that nursing a child takes work and the process has turned your wife's nipples into raw hamburger. She cries every time she tries to feed him from the pain. You ask her if she wants to use a bottle and she says "no. This is better for him." You try to figure out how being fed by hysterical crying mother everyday could lead to anything but a future therapy bill. The first night you are exhausted and you believe your wife should be as well. You fall asleep in the chair in her room, she stays awake watching tv all night. Again the child birthing class didn't tell you your wife would be so high on adrenaline she would stay awake for three straight days. You take the baby home and the real fun begins. He wakes up every hour wanting to be fed and/or changed. He cries for no reason, he vomits more than he eats, his body has the stability of jello, and no matter what the diapers say, it does not absorb baby poop. Every time you take him out it's like packing to cross the plains in a covered wagon. You have to take at least thirteen spare outfits, enough diapers to keep a retirement home supplied for ten years, toys, blankets, pacifiers, medicine, strollers, car seats, wipes, burp cloths, a camera, and a stack of pictures to show people how cute he is when they aren't around. Still it doesn't really matter how he has changed your life or upset your routine, you find yourself falling in love with the half alien half old man half roley poley bug. You start to realize that someone elses comfort takes precedents over your own needs. You realize you have the responsibility of caring, nurturing, and raising this amazing miracle. You're worried that your best won't be good enough but if you can remember the way you feel right now you will never question why you did it.
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