Like many first time parents the day came and went that our first little bundle of joy was meant to greet the world. Day after day passed. I gave up hope. This kid was never coming out. Then seven days past his due date, he gave signs of arrival. Off we went to the hospital, along with The Bag that had been packed for an eternity.
IrishDev was doing great. He drove to the hospital without incident, arranged the room, and got us settled without any issues. It was a long labor, I was a little worried about him because he is a wimp. As the pain intensified, IrshDev started losing his composure. Sighs of distress started to appear.
Then, “Maybe you should sit outside for a minute of two until you get your breath back, I will come for you at the end”
He was back shortly, and did manage to be in the room for the birth, and not totally faint. He was asked to cut the cord, and squeaked, “No thanks”, and remained upright…..maybe
When it was all over the nurse offer the parent who had been through the mill some tea and biscuits to get a sugar hit, and aid recovery. IrishDev accepted.
He’s a wimp when it comes to blood, and maybe he would have preferred avoiding the whole labor thing all together. Things really didn’t get easier for him, though he tried with each of the four births. That hasn’t stopped him from being an amazing father, and as a bonus I get to slag him regularly about ‘our’ difficult labors.
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