Scary Pictures and Milking

Today we picked up one of those huge coffee table books on pregnancy. You know the kind that is about 3 feet by 3 feet and has the brilliant 3D images of the fetuses at every stage of development. Yeah, those scare me. They scare me because its making the whole thing a little too real. It means this little thing that is just beginning to develop the buds for arms and legs is actually real. It’s no longer a mass of cells but something that that is actually turning into a human (I hope).

It’s hard to believe that part of me is (however many weeks or months down the road) turning from an itty bitty lump into a person. A member of my immediate family. A loved one. Someone who I will forever be bound to. Someone who I, as a father and as a man, would protect with all my heart and would kill and die for. Yet right now I’m completely and utterly powerless. That terrifies me.

As this little child begins to develop and grow inside my wife I have no power. Yes, I can protect my wife. I could slay a 1,000 men with a spoon to keep her safe. But the struggle and fight my child is going through now just to develop and become human? I feel powerless. Admittedly, I am one of those guys who when scared gets really really mean. I’m really scared right now. But I can’t get mean. There isn’t anyone I can yell at or fight or slay with a spoon. I want to do the struggling for my child. I just desperately want him/her to be ok.

I have to trust God. That can be hard. I have a very deep foundational faith. I have never felt truly alone in the last 20 years since I got down and asked God to give me strength. My fear and worry don’t mean I don’t have faith. It just means I’m human. I think He knows that.

My wife has big boobs. I mean really big boobs. She is, not an exaggeration, a size H cup. That is correct an H cup. That’s several letters past D in case you weren’t paying attention. Today we had a lengthy conversation about the physical changes she will be going through and about nursing. She was telling me her boobs are going to grow 2 sizes. I don’t know how the heck we’re going to manage that one. She’s added a breast pump to her ever growing list of baby related items that she refuses to compromise quality on. When I expressed my concern over cost she said the alternative was for her to bend over and say moo and I could milk her because she refuses to express herself for an hour at a time. We’ll be getting the breast pump.

Tomorrow is Saturday which is my favorite day of the week. Why? Two words – Long Run. There are no other runs that I love more than my long runs. My long runs are when I forget about speed and time and just meditate while I see what my body can do. I’m working on increasing my distance so my long runs have started to creep up into the 90 minute range. I’ve been experimenting with energy goos and chews. I can’t really tell if they are doing a whole lot of good but I’ve also been told that you don’t notice what they do until you don’t use them. Go figure. Right now I’m just experimenting and seeing what works and what doesn’t.


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2 Responses to “Scary Pictures and Milking”

  1. The Jogging Dad Says:

    Long runs – 2 words that only true crazy runners can be attracted to! 🙂

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