+1
Last November I wrote about our lengthy return trip from Germany, how it took us nearly two hours to get home from the airport. By the time we walked through our front door, it was roughly 3 a.m. in Germany but only 8 p.m. in Chicago. We vowed to stay awake for at least an hour to get back on a normal sleeping schedule.
I walked up to the corner drugstore to pick up a few essentials, counting the minutes until I could go to bed. When I returned, Renate was hovering near the front door.
“I got you a present,” she said, handing me a positive pregnancy test.
Which pretty much cleared up the fatigue (or at least relocated it eight months down the road).
Of course I am very excited, but also nervous and somewhat, well - shocked. As in, I knew this was the plan and all, but now this is really happening. Shouldn’t I be more Dad-like? More capable with tools? Able to build a crib with my bare hands and an axe?
Now, nearly four months in, this snowball is rolling down the hill with gusto. Plans are underway to turn the guest room into a nursery. We have kicked the tires on a few strollers and purchased roughly eight billion baby books. I mean we are informed, thanks in part to the web. Each week Renate sends me an update from babycenter.com that describes how the baby is developing.
“Your baby’s eyes have now moved from the side of its head to the front,” went one memorable update. That, to me, is solid progress. The baby is always compared to fruit. “Your baby is roughly the size of a kiwi.”
About a month after learning I would be a Dad, I began experiencing some serious anxiety. Most of it focused on the idea that I would contract a horrible disease and perish. I grilled my doctor at a routine physical in January.
“What are these red lines under my eyes?” I said. He shrugged. “I don’t see anything. You’re healthy. Go home.”
Hmmph. The dermatologist proved more cooperative, determining that a suspect mole needed removing. I now have three stitches poking me in the back, and I’ll have the results in eleven days. In that time, my baby will have grown roughly to the size of a grapefruit.
My baby. Holy cow.
February 17th, 2008
Again, congrats… As for being handy with tools, I have a picture of you with a razor blade in your hand, scraping gum out of a trash can in a masculine, dad-like manner… What more could your child need?
February 17th, 2008
Really good news Drew. You’ll be great.
February 18th, 2008
If you learn how to build a crib with your bare hands, could you fix ours? It’s being held together by wire….
February 18th, 2008
Congratulations to you both. A good friend of mine told me that he single biggest lesson he learned from parenthood was how little sleep he really needed. Best wishes, and keep the progress reports coming.
February 18th, 2008
Drew, if you get anywhere near an axe, you’ll be courting disaster. (Think of your history of broken bones and stitches.) The results would not be pretty (neither would the crib), and your child would have to explain to all of his/her friends why Dad doesn’t have any fingers. Get your crib the American way - buy it and hire someone to put it together. Your Dad is always on call for such projects - and he has all of his fingers!
February 18th, 2008
If I recall, you and I helped Jeremy put together Toby’s crib, and I believe it is still standing… So, you’re 1 for 1 at this point.
February 18th, 2008
Thanks for the well-wishes!
Weeks, you are quite right, and I’m glad to hear Toby G’s crib hasn’t fallen out from under him. I think this means I’m ready to tackle bunk beds.
February 18th, 2008
Let’s not get carried away quite yet… Start small, with a birdhouse maybe… Then move on to a spice rack, and then a footstool… It’ll be like you’re back in Sloyd.
February 18th, 2008
Two words: Gorilla glue. Your best friend when assembling (no axe required) cribs, tree houses, bunk beds, and yes, spice racks.
February 19th, 2008
Congrats again, Mr. Myler. Sleep now and forever lose your peace…but man is it fun!
February 19th, 2008
I figure the trade-off to losing sleep is that we can dress the baby in funny clothes for several years and take photos for future embarassment/blackmail purposes.
February 19th, 2008
Great news man! I think you have a good start because you have the gift of story telling and making people laugh. You can learn the rest of the Dad stuff along the way. Congrats to you and your wife.
February 20th, 2008
While Ella was in utero, we called her Ella Jehosephat. We had a girl name, but no boy name-so Jane picked Jehosephat. How shall we refer to the Myler bambino?
February 20th, 2008
Maybe I could send along some of the funny pictures we took of you as a wee one - then you could post them on your blog. Great idea, no?
February 21st, 2008
Don’t worry, Drew — the anxiety will pass. We have a great refrigerator magnet that says “Trust yourself, you know more than you think you do.” The quote is from Dr. Spock (the baby manual guy, not the Vulcan), and your Mom gave us that magnet before we were even married, I think. How odd is that?!
But those words will be helpful to keep in mind. I look back on the last 17.5 months and think, “Hey, this hasn’t been all that tough after all.” But I still have those moments (to this day) where I also say “My baby. Holy cow.”
February 21st, 2008
I am a fan of calling the baby Myler II. Or, Myler Redux.
Mom, that is not a great idea. That is, in fact, a terrible idea.
Thanks John. If I can work out a deal with the baby whereby it cries when only Mom is around, I think that will grease the skids for our relationship.
February 22nd, 2008
I veto Myler Redux. That sounds like an intestinal problem. How about “another Myler,” though that is kind of scary. Is the world ready for another Myler??
February 25th, 2008
Let’s see, there’s TomKat and Brangelina….what about Drewnate or Andren?