December 4, 2004
We have a humidifier in our bedroom that makes water sounds. Combine that with a tangled pair of long johns, free floating anxiety about the upcoming birth, and a baby kicking me in the back through my wife's belly and it all combines into one monster of a bad dream. The short version is that I'm in a straight jacket mid-ocean trying to stay afloat and get my wife to the hospital on time.
We've largely stopped being worrying about "when" and are instead just focusing on staying ready. In the meantime we've made the mental shift from thinking about a Thanksgiving baby to a December one. I'm not sure why this makes a difference but it does. Our current worry is that our daughter will crowd her aunt Becky's birthday. The Yuns take birthdays seriously and we want to give Becks plenty of space to revel and be appreciated.
But these are idle thoughts. Most of all we just want this girl to be healthy and loved. We, like all parents, have a million other hopes and fears... that she will avoid some of the mistakes we have made, that she won't be as difficult as we were, that she will see us as friends... ultimately that she will be better than us. But of course she must fail to learn and must sometimes hate us in order to grow. We know all this.
I've been computerizing our family tree of late. We are an unlikely mix of Gutierrez' and Yuns, Mudges' and Paeks, Perez', and Townes. A hundred years ago our ancestors lived on 3 continents and probably would have killed each other on site. I'm sure this child will have a bit of the best and worst of us all.