Here she comes...

Ready or Not.

We were ready. At least we thought so, my husband and I. We waited till we were both 'steadily' employed (we had assumed that was a given when we finished grad school that involved IT. It wasn't.) This was around when the bubble burst and many of us (who were too embarrassed to hold signs at street corners saying "will write software for food") were scrambling for pizza delivery jobs to make ends meet.

Here we were, living pretty frugally, shopping at Grocery Outlet and proud that two adults were eating for under $40 a week. Eating well, mind you. We were finally getting back on our feet. We had our doubts, but, we were ready to welcome our first little bundle of joy.

All seemed fine. The moment had arrived. I was at the hospital, holding the hand of a nervous and reluctant father-to-be. Reluctant, understandably, given the fact that he passes out at the slightest hint of blood or large needles.

Then, after about n hrs of trying, when Ms.Little Tiny refused to slide down, I was put under and wheeled over to the OR. I remember getting a splitting head-ache, not much unlike the ones I used to get the mornings after indulgent nights of Long Island Iced Teas. I felt very heavy. And I was out. I was under. Whatever you call it.

I gradually came back to the Land of the Living hearing the most melodious music: ear-piercing, spine-chilling, glass-shattering, wonderful shrieks from The Joy Of My Life!

Like a daydream, like it was a movie, like I was invisible, I watched the new dad (symbolically) cutting the umbilical cord of this tomato-esque, wiggling, slimy little thing.

This was 15 months ago.

She is here. And I don't care to remember much about my life before she arrived... that's a good thing. I think?!