GROAN. mumble, mumble. GROAN. harrumph.
“Wow. Is that your species’ mating call?”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously, there’s not a camera crew from Animal Planet following you around, is there? Because that would be cool.”
Pause. “Would you like to have this baby?! ‘Cuz I’ll let you!”
My wife is awesome. While I may joke with her about the groaning and grunting associated with getting settled into bed (or standing up, or bending down or BREATHING AIR), I am amazed at how well she’s taken this whole pregnancy thing. She’s a champ.
I’ll admit to being fearful of this period before she became pregnant, worried that I might be setting myself up for 9 months of misery. See, my wife is…what’s the right way to say this…a wuss? Truth be told, she really doesn’t have much of a tolerance for pain, as she’ll let out a blood-curdling yelp if you so much as bump her arm. And unless she has an undiagnosed case of fibromyalgia (which is horrendous, and not funny in the least), I call bullshit. So as you can imagine, the horror joys of pregnancy were likely to open up a new world to us.
But I was wrong. The Wife™ has been a real survivor of this. I know it must be wrecking her body, but she does little to show how much it bothers her. She suffers in silence and doesn’t complain hardly at all. And for a woman who previously thought that a simple headache was cause for preparing her will, this is a true testament to her awesomeness.
Sure, when we’re in the hospital in a few weeks I fully expect her to take one of the nurses hostage until an epidural is administered. After all, she’s already proclaimed that my preference for natural childbirth were not even worthy of a retort. I still say this is cheating, and that a real woman (hi mom!) would meet the challenge of childbirth face-to-face, undrugged. But saying this would get me killed put me on the couch. For two years.
So to my wife, you’re great. You’ve been so much more of a trooper, team player, (insert other manly sports/office buzzword) that I could have ever imagined. And if you want those drugs in your spine, you can have them.
Just don’t take any hostages. The nurses will spit in your jello. The jello I’ll probably eat while you’re passed out.
