One More Day

In 24 hours our lives will go from controlled chaos to just plain chaos. Baby Larson Number 2 will have entered upon the world, should everything go as planned.

There is that Hemingway story in "In Our Time" in which Nick, the young protagonist, is on a house call with his physician father. A woman is having a baby in the next room and the woman's husband is lying in a bunk bed agonizing over the screams of the woman. By the end of the story the man has slit his wrists. I seem to recall, in the end, that mother and child were doing just fine.

Thank you, Ernest, for another uplifting portrait of the human spirit.

When I read the story in college I remember reacting in my writer's journal (required by the class - I'm a terrible journal-keeper) just how LAME Hemingway's take on manhood was in this story. So aloof was Hemingway from anything female that it actually made sense to him to have a character commit suicide rather than get involved with his wife's pain. I suppose it has been known to happen (weirder things have) but when new life is on its way with your own blood running through it how in the world can you be anything but awed and amazed and excited to see what, who, reveals itself?

No one looks forward to the birthing process except, perhaps, doulas. If one day they invent a pill that magically transports child out of mommy's belly into swaddling clothes, all clean and nice, dads will still worry something bad will happen along the way. It is just a helpless feeling. But isn't it worth it, Dads?

A couple days ago Stella was crying about getting water in her eyes in the bathtub and I was drying her off. She said, "I'm going to the hospital," and I said, "Why?" and she said: "I want to say 'Aaah.'" That just made me laugh so hard. She started laughing even harder. It was a truly great moment. I look forward to great moments with both my children, so panic here.