Baby Daddy 17: Operating Room Decorum

So, it should be noted that there are some things I will never be ready for. One is the delivery room. The fact that I called this post an "operating room", and not a delivery room, says a lot. My wife is conflicted. On the one hand, she wants me in the room. I can hold her hand, coach her through the birthing process, and be there to support her. On the other hand, she and I are terrified of the chance that I may see anything from her waste down. We want to have other children in the future. The last thing either of us wants is to see something to ruin that plan. Seriously. We were told it's like predator down there. Fuck that. And so now, our tentative plan is for me to stare only at my wife's eyes, while she crushes my hand in a death grip, and a sheet keeps us blind to anything else.

Now, when I spoke to my uncle, he suggested that I avoid the delivery room, entirely. I told him that my wife wanted me there, and that she wanted me close. He responded that they have a perfect place for that: in the waiting room. My uncle said that the kid is born, the nurse checks that all of the fingers and toes are accounted for, and then they hand him to me or my wife.

That's when I realized that I probably would not have the best delivery room decorum. I can't be certain, but I suspect they do not want my baby to be born in a room that smells of my celebratory cigar. I'm also guessing the nurses would not want to hold my whiskey and cigar, as I embrace my son in an alcohol soaked hug. Regardless of the presence of alcohol, there is a very real concern about the first moment that I hold my son. At that point, shit's going to get real. I mean, like, really real.

And that leads me to my newest concern. I am worried that, when I first hold my son, the realness of the situation will hit me and I will hurl on him. That's right. I am not worried about fainting, crying, or laughing. I am worried that I will puke all over my child. What's worse, I am worried that I will, after puking, panic, slip, fall, and knock myself out. I'm just hoping that, as I fall to near certain injury, some nurse/doctor will rely on their high school sports (doubtful) to catch the child. Why? Because there is no way in hell that I will let my child experience the pain of falling. One, I'm protective of my boy. Two, assuming the fall doesn't kill me, my wife would.

And so there you have it. I need to somehow stay in the delivery room, not see too much to ruin my marriage, and not puke all over my child. May the odds be forever in my favor.