Posts Tagged ‘sexy’


Friday September 28, 2012 is the first day I really think I got it.  Everything came together for me in one single moment of clarity.  I was punched in the face with truth, and the truth set me free.  The undisputable morsel of knowledge was this:

I am tremendously thankful that I am a man who does not have a vagina or the ability to grow life in my uterus (if I had one).

I mean, up until this point, pregnancy kind of just turned Whitney into a man….She has been gassy, burps a lot, and doesn’t sit like a lady anymore.  Let’s get this straight, she is dead sexy and glowing, but she has her Al Bundy–Married with Children moments.  I conveyed this to her the other day, but to my dismay, somehow this comment wasn’t met with the merriment I expected.

Friday, September 28, 2012, at a routine pre-labor appointment, turned close but no cigar for delivery, I realized exactly what is going down here—literally.  There were metal tools, monitors, multiple women peering into the nether regions of my wife as she sat in motorcycle rider position on a table.  I had this distinct feeling that the nurses were setting up some form of camp in my wife’s birthing area.  Seriously, it looked like they were the advanced party for a circus that is coming to town and their job was to get the big top set up ahead of the carnies’ arrival.  The sounds confirmed my suspicions.  The clanking of metal sounded like tent posts and stakes being prepared for assembly.  Nurses clamoring about grabbing straps and chains excitedly mumbling random things to one another filled the air with the same nostalgic feelings I had before the State Fair in Albuquerque, NM as a kid (minus the potential to be stabbed or killed by gang members or propositioned by local prostitutes).  Things were getting real.  And more importantly, things were getting really invasive.

I offered my hand to Whit as she lay there victim to the carnival occurring just two feet down from her head.  Whitney looked beautiful, but nervous, and rightfully so.  I needed to say something to calm her down while the nurses resurrected the biggest show on earth, so I blurted the first thing that I thought of, “Whitney, you are doing so much better than I would if the nurses were checking my cervix.”  That was it; that was the best I had.

I mean, what does a man say to a woman in this moment that really contains any meaning?  I don’t want to be a coach who just says motivational phrases.  I want to be a valuable member of the push towards life.  I don’t want to say things for the sake of saying things.  I wanted her to hear my words and know that I understand her pain.  I thought I conveyed it.  I am certain that if the nurses were checking my cervix, it would not be met with the calm look of absolute resolution that Whitney met the moment with.

Whitney was like Xena, Warrior Princess sitting there.  I was proud of her, but I cannot say that there was a moment when I thought, “let me take this pain for her.”  I think women are somehow better suited to deal with this moment than men.  Plus, I want to reiterate that Eve ate the apple, and we men just felt compelled to follow suit, because since the dawn of creation, we have just followed our ladies around hoping for a little attention, and we thought that if we were cast out of paradise at the woman’s side, she might give us a little lovin’ later.  I cannot change history…

In the end, the trip was just the beginning of what looks to be a process that is winding down.  I keep trying to coerce Whit into labor by making her do Jumping Jacks, and through a steady diet of spicy foods, but Whitney is hell bent on an October Baby—and make no if, ands, or buts about it, Whitney is this circus’s ringleader.

I just wanted you to know, because I have been holding it in for years.

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Day 20 In a Trailer:  The Natives continue to grow restless.  We have gone without a home for almost four weeks, and we are surviving—barely.  I am not sure whether Whitney doesn’t want to start a torrid love affair with the weird guy who mows the lawns for the campground.  Their relationship started innocently when he was voyeuristically looking in on The Whitness while she was getting ready for the day about a week ago.  It is the way his face looks like he was an extra in the movie, “The Hills Have Eyes” that seals the deal for the man. 

Day 22 In a Trailer:  Whitney has reached an all-time low.  I believe she has voted me off of the island.  Today, I left my shoes in the car and tried to maneuver barefoot through a gravel paved driveway to get to them.  The agony was too much for my soul to bear.  Every step was met with the excruciating pain of a thousand rocks digging into the virgin flesh of my feet.  I called out to my wife hoping she would come to my rescue.  She would be my pregnoid in shining armor.  She emerged from the trailer as happy as I have ever seen her.  “What did you do now?”  I responded in a whimper, “I need my shoes; they are in my truck just there, not too far away, can you please grab them.”  Without complaining, Whitney retrieved my shoes and started walking toward me.  Our eyes connected and I tried to convey the gratitude that I had for her in the moment.  In her eyes, she held a blank stare void of any emotion.  I stood quivering with my blistered feet desperately wanting for my shoes.  Whitney neared my position, and bent over putting my shoes on the ground—a foot beyond my reach.  She stood up and looked down on me in silence.  Turning to walk away from me, I heard her exhale a sigh of breath.  It was a breath of satisfaction.

Day 24 In a Trailer:  Whitney has tried to kill me three times.  In an argument over whether what we are doing here is camping or living, I believe I started to win.  Utilizing my vast understanding of rhetoric and logic, I had cornered Whitney.  She was left with nothing to say.  I was certain that I had convinced her that if we were really camping this would be more exciting, but since we are actually living in this trailer, it has lost its luster.  The exact phrase I used was, “If we were really camping, this would be a much more fun experience, and it would be a much better place to be at.”  Her response to me sums up why I can never really beat Whitney in anything.  She said, “Heath, I am not interested in the details as you see them, I am interested in the facts….”  She quickly followed with a sentence that nailed it for her, “And Heath, don’t end your sentences in a prepositional phrase if you want to be taken seriously in an argument…”

Day 25 In a Trailer:  We had our first work social at my boss’s house.  I learned one really solid thing about myself.  Given an opportunity to innocently say something that would sound so wrong, I will do it.  Whitney and I gathered around the buffet style food table and started filling up our plates.  Whitney does buffets differently than most people do.  She likes to knock it out in one shot.  She gets her main course and simultaneously gets her dessert.  I like to go back like seven times and just graze on things for about three hours.  Anyways, Whitney had her little plate of main course dessert combo.  I noticed people gathering around the buffet table and decided I needed to be the center of attention, now if I could only come up with something to say…..Here is the statement that will live in infamy:  “Whitney (said as loud as I can), we don’t need to get it all in one sweep, damn.”  I look to the crowd for validation with a look that said, “c’mon people agree with me…am I right, or am I right?”  The crowd scattered.  All I could hear was a collective grumble of disappointment in my statement.  I am brilliant.  The look on Whitney’s face was one that said, “later, in the car ride, on the way home, I am going to kill you.”

Day 26: Last Full Day in a Trailer:  I make it exciting.  After the argument I won/lost earlier in the week, I thought I would try to make this feel like a camping experience.  I started a fire.  We got marshmallows out and made s’mores.  It was fun.  As the fire was really getting going, I noticed it was billowing smoke.  I looked to Whitney, who had made knife hands and was attempting to waft smoke away from her by rapidly moving both hands in front of her face.  She looked at me in anger and said, “Heath, this is how you kill a baby.”  End result:  Camping is awesome!

I just wanted you to know, because I have been holding it in for years.