Homebirth Handgrenade (of death)

Having a pregnant wife...

sometimes...

is like running across a busy highway.

Blind Folded...

while really really hungry.

Not so much while hungry actually. I am just really hungry right now. I ate half my left over "Carrabas Italian Grill" from last night, and it didn't seem to satisfy the monster that dwells the swampy hallows of my gut (Trevor).

Today I get a call from my wife:

Me: "Hello Hello"
Mrs. PBS : "I am a crazy person"
Me: "Hi Honey!"
Mrs. PBS : "I am reading all these facts about hospital births, and I want a home birth. I am going to say some crazy unreasonable, irrational things now about how I am going to give birth at home on a tarp with our emergency home birth kit (yes, we got one...) and I am not gonna call you until I have the baby in my hands!"
Me: "I am very level headed and think we should talk about this later, how about that my dearest Love of all time?"
Mrs. PBS : "I am not asking you, I am telling you! CRAZIES!!!"

Exact conversation, I swear.

Ok, I don't really think she is crazy though. SURE we are at 34 weeks and changing everything... but man I tell you. I wouldn't be married to this Lovely woman if I didn't expect adventures such as these.

I completely understand where she is coming from. I will never understand what it will be like to carry and give birth to a child, but I would Love it if we could try to make sure our (her) birth was a close to ideal as possible. After we both calmed down, we laughed about the idea of having the baby at home, without a care giver, on a tarp... (hehe, tarp baby) and made quick work to find out what we could do to change the situation.

I called basically every midwife with in an hour of us. Which yielded some moderately good news.

We don't really know what steps we are going to take next. Hopefully we can find a CNM (Certified Nurse Practitioner) who can work out of the hospital, and accept our insurance. Maybe we can find someone to do a home birth for a little less? Maybe the Lord Jesus Christ will come from the North Pole in his mobile birthing sled do the whole thing pro bono?

No matter what happens I think we will still be in good hands with our OBGYN if we go the hospital route. She so far has been super supportive of everything we have wanted for our birth experience, even saying she would try to get nurses that are pro natural child birth to assist the process.

I have to say, though I joke about the craziness of it, I am proud that my wife said something. Rather than not, and maybe later feeling like she cheated herself out of at least the CHANCE of having the exact experience she wants.

Blogaplegic

It's hard to know where to begin when writing a blog...

I imagined that once I set the whole thing up, ideas would come to me like mullets to a Walmart. They just aren't coming... it could be the massive poo tickle I am experiencing begging me to vacate my office and run to the bathroom for sweet release. But damn it I refuse! Until I have something substantial written down on this first blog entry everyone in this room will suffer the wrath of my stinky wind. (Sorry BriBri)

At the very least I should tell you why I'm here.

I don't know why I'm here... Well maybe I do. I want to be different from my old man ( I don't think i have ever call him "my old man" in my life) I want to be a better father, a better husband, a better man then he thought he could ever be. It's a complicated story that will unravel it's self over the course of this blog, but put simply, My dad was kind of a piece of shit. Misogynistic, racist, selfish... I know I am not like him. I'm not as much worried about that as I was when I was 18.

I thinking growing up the way I did ( single mother barely floating paycheck to paycheck with a transient father) I have a unique experience most of my friends didn't have. Most of them growing up privileged with everything they needed/ wanted always available. A 6 figure house hold income, both parents together, summer vacations... the American Dream?

So As a result I've become the black sheep of my sometimes traditional Persian family. My mother herself an outlier in the Persian community. After all I am 1st Generation trying to rewrite the wrongs of my father. Wish me luck? Pack me a Lunch? It's gonna be a long trip.

Hopefully I'll share some laughs, share some struggles and we'll have some fun!