Day 115: It was a dark and stormy night...

Man, this weblog was supposed to be a daily affair, but work has been impossible. You see, I got it into my head that with a baby coming, it was time for me to add a second job to my duties and subsequently ignore Elisa and all her needs.

So when I have a free moment from the crush of work, with Elisa desperate for my "attention", I do what every clueless husband would do in this situation -- head to the computer to blog. So here I am again as Elisa fumes in the other room, ready to tell you about --

Okay, you know that movie Frankestein? The one where the mad scientist yells triumphantly "It's Alive!" And Frankesteing rises from the laboratory table and goes on a rampage and the crowd hunts him down and I don't know the rest because I never saw the movie? Remember?

Good. Because we went through a similar moment on Sunday. Except that the baby didn't rise from any table, and there were no villagers. And given that the baby hasn't been born yet, I haven't had a Dr. Frankenstein moment just yet:

The dynamics of doom are set up by the abhorance of the parent for the child. Victor Frankenstein's idealism prepared him for a idyllic relationship. Instead of the expected adulation by his offspring, he was immediately confronted with the creature's loathsomeness and his own responsibility.

"I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of the room, continued a long time traversing my bed chamber, unable to compose my mind to sleep."

I'm not sure whether I'll worry about the "loathsomeness" of my child, and my responsibility for her creation. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

But there we were doing something. Elisa was probably trying to get my attention, I was probably ignoring her, when suddenly she said, "I felt something!" and placed her hands on her tummy.

Normally, I would dismiss such proclamations. She'd said them before (like at two weeks, no kidding), so I said, very nicely, "it's probably gas".

Given that I'm being respectful of Elisa, I won't get into the whole "gas" thing other than to say -- and I'm very serious about this -- don't light a match in our house. Moving on...

Elisa was unconvinced, "I don't think it was".

I looked up, "Do you think it was something to do with your bowels?" See, when your wife is pregnant, you get used to talking about bowel movements really quickly.

"No", she said. "I really think the baby moved."

Skeptically, I approached and put my hands on her belly. When I last took a picture of that belly, it only had a small bulge. Elisa has exploded since then, and is now pretty freakin' huge (new picture coming soon). In any case, I felt nothing, which wasn't surprising given the baby is still only five inches long.

As I asked, "Are you sure?", she interrupted with a yell:

"There it is again!"

And at that moment in time, the realization suddenly hit me:

It's aliveeeeee!!!!

Thunder crackled in the distance. It was all quite dramatic. Except that I didn't say anything more than "cool!", and it was a clear evening with no rain clouds in sight.

But it's my story, dammit, and I'll tell it like I want!

There was thunder that day.

by Kos | June 12, 2003 10:40 PM