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| Confessions of a Stay-at-Home Dad: Part III | | Print | |
| Written by Joeprah | |
For more from this series check the first post here, and the second post here. Part III Along the journey of the pregnancy, Jodi was again poked and prodded by doctors. She was administered tests and in and out of hospital gowns for a total of six sonograms, and seemed to become numb to all the invasiveness that she had so dreaded in the past. I never wanted to know what the sex of our baby was, but it was Jodi’s intention to find out, and since she was carrying and having the baby I felt it best to respect her wishes. I mean, if she hadn’t been already, she was quickly turning into my hero. We found out we were having a girl as it turned out, the first of three.) We chose the name Isabella, got our bags packed and waited for the day to arrive. Then it happened; just when I thought I couldn’t be more impressed with my wife, she went into labor. If you think afterbirth is bad, try on this one: episiotomy. Holy-crap-I-hate-that-word! If you say that word, I cringe; it is a Pavlovian response. For those of you who know what it is, I am sure you will agree that it takes the cake. Trust me; you never want to hear a doctor say, “Your wife tore, so we need to perform an episiotomy.” It is the verbal equivalent to running finger nails over a black board. The entire delivery thing is nuts, and to make matters worse, Jodi and the baby began to experience “complications.” Jodi needed to have an emergency c-section. My daughter had the cord wrapped around her neck and was losing oxygen each time there was a contraction, so the doctor prepped my wife and I, and we were in the O.R. in about five minutes. I think c-sections are much more pleasant than natural birth. All deliveries should be c-sections as a way to shelter men from the nightmarish scene which is vaginal birth. My wife had a flawless c-section and it was the single most moving experience of our lives for my wife and me to finally lay eyes on our beautiful baby girl. We cried uncontrollably as we held her together for the first time. (By the way, that is totally a manly time to cry, in case you were wondering.) She was perfect, and after three-and-a-half days in the hospital, Jodi and I returned home with baby Bella and began our adventures in parenting. I think my wife having a c-section was the best thing that could have happened to me, since I was forced to change all the diapers and do the lion's share of the initial rocking and burping. Jodi was out of work for three months with the c-section. The first two weeks she needed just to allow her body to heal enough so she could manage going up and down the stairs. She was in a lot of pain, and I was amazed at how easily I took to this whole baby thing. If it were just the three of us, life would be so easy, I thought. We were so perfect together, but Jodi had to return to work, and I started my career at home with Bella--albeit part-time. I continued working part-time in construction, but as a skilled laborer, rather than a supervisor. My mom, dad, and mother-in-law took turns helping out with Bella a few days a week. I have to say that our immediate family was very supportive of the choices we made in regards to our working arrangement. It was the folks that knew us the least who seemed to have the most discouraging things to say. Our neighborhood consisted of many stay-at-home-moms, and as I began to venture out into their world via playgroups and trips to the park, I began to see that many people had never encountered a stay-at-home-dad. Although I received some odd looks from moms and infrequently-seen family members, the person who had the most difficult time adjusting to me staying home was—-me. Stay tuned for the next installment some time next week. Thanks to Trouble Maker and Kitiara for their continued editing support. All You Gots to Do is Click            
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