Ambien dreams await

November 23, 2008 at 11:11 am Leave a comment

So here we are, less than 12 hours from impact. A tall and buzzing pole has been attached to Alex’s left arm, and a wicked chill is pushing through this apparently unclimatized window next to which I sleep. Alex has had an Ambien on offer every night since we arrived at this swank hotel, but has refused each and every one. I, on the other hand, had to grab my stash from home. My boys are coming into the world tomorrow, I am darn well determined to get a full night’s sleep {buzz}.

Alex is amazingly at peace. Throughout the long process that has gotten us to this point – and I speak of years, not months – she has always faced fate with steely resolve. The scarier the next step, the bolder and braver she has been. Not me though – I choose instead to be a quivering imbecile. I was at the gym this morning when Alex called to say it was on tomorrow. She seemed so restful, so confident and unafraid. I stammered and sweated my way out of Planet Fitness and eventually caught up with the Zen Hugeness herself. She has banished all aggravation from her midst, and after some time at least a touch of it has rubbed off on me. I feel the oddest twinge of something forming out of the nether vapors of my soul. Could it be patience? If so I’d like it wrapped (and wrapped NOW) so that I might take it with me to my next appointment, Fatherhood

{at this point, the author fell asleep with the computer on his belly. 7 and a half hours have gone by}

I am back. And good lord it is cold. COLD. They can’t really think this window is going to work in this arctic climate! Alex is stirring, they’re taking her vitals. I slept like an amnesiac, if that’s really some sort of measure. When we awoke, Alex asked if I posted a lot last night. I had no recollection. I grabbed the computer and read her the above paragraphs, about which she giggled gently. She remains without fear. I suppose there’s something, in fact, to be said for a scheduled C Section. There’s no mystery – no vague feeling of responsibility or guilt, no worries about the pain or natural childbirth – it simply is what it will be, and when it will be too. Unless we get bumped, which may happen (emergencies could arise that are more emergencier than ours).

The title of this post is meaningless. I dreamed not a whit. It was my last full night of sleep – and Alex’s too, though she didn’t sleep so well. I thought with the boys in the NICU (which is inevitable) there would still be sleep for a short time to come. But starting tonight Alex must pump. Our factory must rise. Our carefree youth a product of ten thousand yesterdays, and our responsible stewardship and selfless love a thing of the future that starts now. Did I mention how cold I am by this window?

Baby A is pushing on mama’s bladder. The poor thing (mama) must hit the loo again and again, it fragmented her last night as her lumbering husband slept like a mole. She’s having vitals taken, contractions monitored. Soon, soon, it will be time for our very last ultrasound. Strange that we’ve gotten to know our boys so well through that medium; we’re ready to meet the little men in person now. Enough with the phosphorescent reality show. Let’s just hope they’re somewhat ready to meet us.

I gotta go be useful somehow. Pack and prep. Rub and coach. Pace and sweat. Psst…I got some cigars for the inside pocket of my coat.

More when possible…


p.s. Alex will speak some time in this space – don’t think I haven’t tried. She just seems to have other things on her mind, oddly. She IS grateful for all the wonderful comments and support reaching her through the inter-thing.


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Here’s a thousand words for you Practice breathing little man

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