Tonight, someone I know is in labor. I have three kids of my own—two born at home—so I have a little experience with the child birth process, at least from one perspective. Yes, not the perspective, but let’s not get into that here.
Child birth wasn’t just a life-changing event, but it totally changed the way I saw the world entirely. Everything came into focus; all of sudden, everything made sense. Even with the second and third one, I gained so much (besides the obvious). It wasn’t just “same old, same old.” In fact, I know now that no child birth is exactly the same, except for one thing: there’s always something. It’s such a crazy process—whether you do it naturally or there’s an emergency or you do a c-section—that there’s bound to be some aspect of the birth that tests the very core of your being, even if you’re not the one expelling the being from your core.
For that very reason, I can honestly and definitely say that I am leagues beyond glad that I’m not the guy with his wife in labor tonight. [nervous laughter] Oh man am I glad it’s not us having a baby tonight. Yes, for all you going through labor right now and having beautiful children and amazing life-changing events, good for you. But me, I’m reveling in the fact that I just started the dishwasher and casually sauntered over to my chair to type out this silly little blog post. In a few I’ll saunter back to the bedroom and leisurely brush my boring old teeth, then sleep like a baby, and later wake up sort of annoyed at the way-too-early alarm bell. When I think about labor and pushing out babies right now, I’m silently ecstatic in the banality of what’s next for me.
For all of you bringing precious lights into the world tonight, I salute you. God’s speed, good luck, congratulations, etc. etc. Been there, done that, and…[giant inhale, giant exhale]. And with that, I’m going to bed.