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Show ! The 'child birth' experience is still a magical thing! My wife surprised me by having a baby last week. Don't get me wrong, I knew she was going to have a baby, she just had it a little early. The first clue I had that something was happening was when she woke me at five a.m. by screaming in my ear, 'I think I'm in labor! 4 T KEVIN CUMMINGS Correspondent that was on the pre-admissions form we filled out,' I said lamely. I hadn't known there was going to be a quiz, otherwise I would have studied. 'What is your doctor's name? 'Tensmyer,' that was an easy one. That was also the last easy one. For the next fifteen minutes, I answered an-swered questions about my family's medical history, my wife's family's medical history, I gave names and dosages for all the medicines that my wife had taken since getting pregnant, I described all the illnesses il-lnesses and ailments she'd ever had in her life, and (if I'm remembering this clearly) I had to name the first seven presidents of the United States. The admissions nurse was just leaving when the doctor came in. He examined my wife and confirmed confirm-ed that we were having a baby. I was glad he agreed with our diagnosis. diag-nosis. I'm afraid to think what my wife might have done if he'd told her otherwise. In a surprisingly short time (an hour or so) we had a brand new baby boy. The birth of a baby is always a joyous occasion. Nobody was happier about this birth, though, than my long distance company. com-pany. I called relatives in eight states from the hospital. My new son didn't even have the decency to be born in the evening when the long distance rates are lower. After a while, a nurse came and took the baby to the nursery for an exam and another nurse wheeled my wife to her room. When it was all over, my wife and I could barely believe it had happened. We'd gone from the beginning of labor through birth in just three hours. Having a child is a wonderful, magical experience, expe-rience, but it didn't seem completely complete-ly real. Of course, now that we're home and the baby wakes up every three hours for a feeding, we're pretty sure it's real. It's still sort of magical, though. 'LABOR! What do you mean you're in labor? You can't be in labor, you're not due for three more weeks!' I shouted. (In light of this performance, I think you can see why I never looked for work as a diplomat.) 'HOSPITAL!' my wife yelled. 'I don't know,' I said, I think maybe we should wait and see what happens before we... My wife neatly countered this arguement by driving her fingernails finger-nails through my bicep. 'Hospital,1 I agreed. The next few minutes are a blur as I look back on them. The only thing I remember clearly is my wife saying something about if I wanted any more children I'd have to give birth next time. When we got to the delivery room, a nurse examined my wife and said, 'Don't push. We're trying to get a doctor. It might help if you pant like a puppy dog. While we were trying to take that little bit of wisdom to heart, the nurse-inch arge-of -asking- questions came in to the room. 'What is the name of your insurance in-surance company?' she asked. 'Uh...' I replied. My wife normally nor-mally takes care of all those details. I looked to her for help. She was too busy panting to notice me. I think |
