This morning, Angela and I started off her birthday like any couple would, with an OBGYN appointment. With Zeke still chilling inside Angela, the docs needed to check up on everything and make sure everyone was doing OK. We have joked that we found out about him on my birthday and she could deliver him on hers. They did an ultrasound and everything was looking good. Heartbeat was strong and everything was where it is supposed to be. After that we went to another room where they hooked Angela up to some monitors to further check his heartbeat and see if she was having any contractions. While she was hooked up to that the doc came in and asked us if we knew about the weight of the baby. We didn’t. The people doing the ultrasound hadn’t told us (and we didn’t know to ask). Our doctor joked about people like surprises when it comes to babies, but we told him we weren’t trying to be surprised.
He then told us that Zeke was 11.3 pounds.
At that moment I was waiting for him to say, “Haha just kidding, he is only 8.5.” He never said that. So what I am telling you is that my boy is going to come out and be ready to play in the NFL. He is going to have some bulging biceps and be ready to take on any kid that tries to take his milk. He will look at newborn-sized clothes and say, “ain’t nobody got time for that.” He is going to skip the breast milk and go straight to solids. Zeke means business.
You hear a lot of people talk about the rush they had when the contractions started and it was time to go to the hospital. Maybe they were woken up in the middle of the night. Or maybe dad got a call while at work and had to rush home to get mom. Angela and I will wake up tomorrow morning, sit at the table and eat some breakfast (well at least I will), get ready and when the clock gets about 5:05 we will head to the hospital to deliver Zeke. We decided to skip all the dramatics and schedule a C-section. Angela wasn’t too thrilled about trying to push out an 11 pound baby (and there are also lots of risks that we didn’t think were worth taking).
You would think 9 months is enough time to wrap your head around the concept of being a dad, but it’s not. Tomorrow morning I will be holding my kid. Still seems surreal to say that. It’s an excitement I don’t know how to prepare for. An excitement I don’t know how to express. All I know is that tomorrow is going to be the greatest day of my life (and as I’ve said before, I’ve had some pretty cool days). I’m gonna be all about that baby, bout that baby (*insert SMH-ing here*).
Ezekiel Tate Spindler will show his face for the first time tomorrow. I’ll probably play him Kid President’s letter to a person on their first day here. I could try to tell him a lot of things, but Kid President probably will say it better. And in a few years, when he can remember it, I’ll play it for him again.
Soon the wait will be over. #32615 is the new #31915
until next time…
Photo courtesy of Selbe