Wow, 4 Centimeters

She’s big, she’s pregnant and she’s pissed off.

Yesterday Michelle went into Dr Grants office for her weekly checkup, she brought her cup of lemonade, a big smile and 38 weeks of readiness to have this baby.

It ought to be noted that Michelle had been having what she described as “bad ass cramps” that morning and people had told her that she looked like she had dropped, what ever that means. So she told Dr Grant, “...all this and more. So what’s up Doc?”

“At this time Dr Grant was elbow deep and with a sudden surprised look on her face smiled back and said, “Congratulations, you are already at four centimeters!” I’m sure that somewhere in the universe there is someone out there who is a first time dad that understands and comprehends what that means. That dad would have replied, “uh hum. Very well, I concur doctor.”

My reply was more analogous to the orangutan at the zoo after the third graders have ticked it off by throwing chunks of monkey dung back in the cage; if we’d have wanted it in here in the first place don’t you think that we would have kept it in here? “Excuse me, Dr Grant, have you called the ambulance? Do we need a stretcher? ... Are the bed sheets clean...who cares? ... Is she gonna make it? ... Why aren’t you moving?”

I’m new to all this, lay off.

The doc calmed me down with information and threats of nonvoluntary sedative injections and told us that this baby could come within the day; or it could be a week from now. Her parting words were, “Who knows this could be our Christmas Baby!” To which we heard, “it could come with in the day.”

We spent the rest of the day staring at Michelle’s belly and flipping out every time Chelle’s tummy rumbled, even from gas. I’d grab my wife, the overnight bag and lunch pail race to the car and go screaming down the highway until the contraction was over and Michelle would then tell me it was just another little false alarm and to quit embarrassing her in front of the neighbors. Some were beginning to camp out in their front yards on lawn chairs with sodas in one hand and stop watches in the other and they would cheer us on because it must have been pretty entertaining.

We covered our bed in tarp, incase her water broke and then slept the night away. In my dream I beat my actual false alarm time to the hospital by a good .7 seconds. Twice. I think we’re ready. I guess we’ll see.

Oh, one more thing. And this one is for real. I couldn’t tell this story any way but how it actually happened.

Getting out of the clinic yesterday, we started driving and of course calling anyone who knew anything about this stuff because we had no idea still what it meant to be at 4 centimeters - without the doctor flipping out. So I called my mom who is a fabulous pediatric nurse practitioner. But she was playing with grandbabies in Arizona and not in the mood to talk to disappointing children (read this as screening calls).

So I then, of course, called my brother who is a doctor because his name is on the top of my list in my cell phone. As soon as he answers I go right into it, “Dude, you won’t believe it! We just got out of the doctors office and my wife is dilated to 4 centimeters!! Woohoo!!” I was overly excited because I was trying to play off the aforementioned fact that I didn’t know what that meant.

To which the other end of the line replied, “Congratulations ... who the heck are you?” I immediately looked at the display screen on my phone and realized that the only letter before A for Aaron is a number and the only number before Aaron on my call list was the ‘62^nd Scheduling office’ at work. A number which I frequently call to see when I am flying the next day; one that I have quite intentionally left out of the loop with regards to my pregnant wife’s complete medical history.

I felt a lot like Gov Schwarzenegger must have after giving a speech on cracking down on immigration through Cahliphorneeaz borders. Just a little out of place.

So that’s it. All she wrote. That’s all folks. No more stories here today. We’ll keep you updated. The phones are charged and the charger is in the overnight bag. Expect calls shortly or with in the next week and if you don’t we’ll just keep telling dumb stories on the internet, where anyone and no one will read them. I guess I’ll actually read that chapter in the What to Expect book so I can know what in the heck we are supposed to do now besides stare at each others belly. I’m sure that’s a contraction but to be on the safe side, we’d better go.

Oh and here's a funny article the New York Times wrote about us this week:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/20/business/20leonhardt.html?_r=1&oref=login