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In fact, I was by your side pretty much the whole time. But that's only because your Mom was by my side.
I had surgery last Thursday in anticipation of your arrival. Seeing your due date approaching faster and faster, I finally decided to do something I've been wanting to do for a long time: have my broken sniffer repaired.
I had what they call a deviated septum, which means that I couldn't really breathe through my nose properly. I hope you get your mother's nose, if only to avoid the deviation and the surgery.
But there was no avoiding it for me. I wanted to be able to be firing on all cylinders (and all nostrils) for all of our time together, so I decided to get the surgery done.
Your Mother - at 34 weeks pregnant- has been my "patient" for a long time, as I've been "babying" her (with good reason) for a lot of the pregnancy. (It's my pleasure to do so, seriously. ) But, starting on Thursday, I was in no condition to take care of your Mom; and she was awesome enough to take care of me.
Let's just say I was testing your Mom's maternal medical instincts- and she passed with super 'A plusses.'
She did the gross (like cleaning out my nose with Q-tips and changing my bandages and not cringing when I had to spit up blood and crud).
She was patient ( like putting up with me, and even being kind to me, while I was on pain killers that made me loopy).
She was strong for me (like telling me it would all be okay, when I was definitely feeling like it wouldn't).
She lifted my spirits (and made my laugh when I didn't feel like I could, and definitely when my stiff face and nasal stitches told me that I shouldn't-- but, despite the brief pain, laughter was the best medicine).
She took my temperature, administered my medicines, taught me how to clean up my own nose and- heck- she even washed my hair.
And all this while 34 weeks pregnant with a ever-growing, kinda painful honeydew in her belly! I knew she was hurting and tired too, but she helped me get better despite that.
So, all that is to say: when your Mom has to take care of you, I know for sure that you are in good hands. That's not to say that there was any doubt before, since she's taken care of me while I was ill (or just bummed) many times over the past 12 years. But this was just a recent reaffirmation that, really, I couldn't ask for a better wife and you couldn't ask for a better mother.
(And, no, I'm not sucking up to her; I'm just calling it like I sees it!)
Your Beautiful Mother, Trying Hard not to Smile
But, I wasn't the only one testing the waters this weekend. As you passsed your 34th week-iversary, you really started testing your Mother too. With one foot - or maybe two- firmly placed against her ribs on her right hand side, you started pushing, and stretching and stretching some more.
This is your new favorite trick; and you've been doing it sporadically all weekend, especially near bedtime. As last night was my first night back in bed (after being quarantined on the couch, to avoid a thrashing Holly hitting my face during my sleep), I was able to feel your foot pressing against her ribs and then pushing even more.
I gently held on to your foot and tried to encourage you to push it down away from her ribs, kind of like scooting a under-the-blankets tennis ball down a bed from on top of the covers (haven't you ever done that before?). But your foot firmly remained in your mother's ribs, definitely testing the limits of discomfort. So, I tried again, this time talking you through it, and almost massaging your Mom's ribs to encourage you to scoot your foot elsewhere.
To be honest, I don't really remember if I was able to get you to move your foot away, because I fell asleep - all this facial healing takes a lot of energy out of you. But, rest assured, after yours and my combined weekend of testing your Mom's strength and resolve and patience, I'm now ready to resign the efforts back to you: it's your solo gig once again.
Worry not, though- I won't leave your side for too long at all. But it will be because I will be by your Mom's side; hopefully helping her, and making her laugh, and making her dinner as you continue to kick her ribs all the way to the finish line, which is now under 40 days away.
