I am the proud father of two wonderful children. I suppose few parents ever brag that they are the proud father or mother of two messed up losers, but mine really aren’t, at least not yet.
I often joke that I have two only children, which is mostly true. They are 17 years apart in age, so one was almost out the door when the next one arrived in this world. This was neither by design or by accident.
As with most things in our lives, it just happened that way. It’s the side effect of being married twice in my life. I know what some of you are saying, “Wait, weren’t there three ex-whatevers?” But since there were no children introduced into the world, the last misstep must fall into the “No Harm, No Fowl” category of what is now referred to as the pretend marriage.
My first child, Rebecca, was born in 1981 to the mono mom. Yes, Heather. I had just graduated from college in May and Becca arrived in September. Not much breathing room there. With a child now in this world, I had to get a job fast, and that’s how I ended up in the mailroom of Associated Grocers.
I wasn’t really prepared to be a dad. Who is, I guess. I still remember the day she was born, and this is mostly what this story is about, the actual birth of my two children.
Becca came into this world at about 8:30 p.m. on July 27. I wasn’t going to go into watch the blessed event. My idiot brothers had convinced me that it wasn’t something any man would want to watch. So I was going to do the waiting room game during the actual birth.
In the labor room, Heather had had a spinal and we were laughing as the contractions and pain kept hitting the top of the scale. “Man, that one would have hurt,” I would say. Before long, I saw the crown of Becca’s head cresting between Heather’s legs. “Hey, that’s not so bad.” So I donned scrubs at the last minute and went in to watch my daughter be born. It was pretty cool.
After she was out, they handed her to me and I got to show the family my new daughter. She was named Rebecca Marie, the name my mother always wanted to name her little girl, but got cheated out of by having four boys. Meanwhile, Heather was left alone in the delivery room. At one point her leg fell out of the stirrups. She later recounted the story of trying to pull her leg back up when it was completely numb from the spinal. Would have liked to see that.
I was now a dad, with all the wonder, self-doubt and tribulations ahead of me. To make a long story short, Becca moved out of her mother’s house and in with me when she was 14. Because of that, she went on to be on the flag team, win a Miss America essay contest, go on to college and have a successful career with a great husband and her dog, Buddy. Sharon, my new wife, and I had saved her from loserdom.
Fast forward 17 years. Sharon was younger than I and I knew the time would come to try to have children. It was part of the package deal. Fine with me, but we agreed we would stop trying when I hit 40, because I didn’t want to be a grandpa man in a walker attending my son’s graduation. Now that I am five years away from that day, I feel a bit silly about the arbitrary date.
No matter, Sharon got pregnant after her high school reunion. Guess it was the thought of her hanging with her old boyfriends that made me send out more of the troops than usual.
The pregnancy went smoothly. I only know this only because Parker has his own website. Only he wasn’t Parker then. He was going to be Corey Andrew or Delaney Rose. A trip to the school musical, Oklahoma, changed all that. We were looking at the big map of the state on the curtain and killed time by making up names. One of the characters in the play is Will Parker. You can figure it out from there. Parker was named after a character in a musical. I really wanted Parker Stevenson but was overruled. Of course, I also wanted to name him Pino Grigio at one point.
My little Zygote
If you want to see the chronicle of his life, check out BabyCentral. His mom and sister never got around to getting their sections done, but his dad, dog and even the baby have narratives. I know, I know. But how many babies had a website in 1998?
Week 39 was when all hell broke loose. I woke up to find Sharon in the bathroom. She thought she was having constipation. At 5 a.m., she figured out it was the baby. I had little time to spring into action, it seemed. As I asked her if she was in labor, her water broke all over the floor.
We jumped into the car. It was a 25 minute trip to the hospital. I shaved a good eight minutes off the trip, running lights and speeding through Port Orchard, then Bremerton. I called ahead to the hospital. They asked how far apart the contractions were. There were no spaces. It was just one long contraction.
After dumping the car in the lot, I made my way to the maternity ward. The nurse at the counter was ignoring me, talking on the phone. I was really getting pissed, until I realized he was on the phone with our doctor. Then I heard the scream behind me. I entered the room to find Sharon with her legs up around her ears. The nurse told me to grab one and crank on it some more. Becca took a seat at the end of the bed. And then, at 5:39 a.m., out popped Parker. I looked over at my 17 year old and her eyes were as big as saucers. She said she wanted to be there for Parker’s birth, but I don’t think she expected to have a ringside seat.
From all the pushing during the bathroom saga, Parker looked like a conehead. Eventually his head turned round again. By 4 p.m., we were on our way home, our new son in tow.
Today, Parker is 13. He’s in the other room, running a temperature. And I am playing both mommy and daddy at the same time today. And while I never thought I would be a daddy continually for 30 years now, I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.
Love you guys!
Out on the Treasure Coast, my ever present thermometer (oral) in hand,
– the Big D / Daddy-O