Katie hit me with a big one the other day... "I think we're going to be parents by this coming weekend." She based this declaration on the fact that her belly is beginning to drop in a pretty big way.
I guess in the grand scheme of things, it shouldn't be all that big a deal. What's one week early, right?
Well, the gravity of the statement hit us both like a ton of bricks. You might be amazed how much of a difference that one extra week of "safety net" was to us. Suddenly we felt like we were complete incompetents. There was no way we would get everything done.
To be honest, we are mostly done. Katie got another big chunk done today because she accidentally showed up to work an hour early. So she sat in the break room and finalized a bunch of stuff regarding insurance and leave time and whatnot. So, really, we don't have much to worry about. But we were still stunned by the potential reality all the same.
This whole thing has got me thinking, though, about when Chewie actually will surf the amniotic wave and grace us with his/her presence. Katie is still thinking this weekend. A coworker thinks it will be September 7. Another coworker thinks it will be September 9. The actual due date is September 15.
Me? I have this feeling it will be September 11.
When Katie and I first discussed the possibility of a C-section, the one day that we immediately crossed off our list as a potential surgical date was September 11. Why? Well, duh. Look at the notoriety of that day.
But I also feel like that negativity may have gone all karmic on us and now the kid will arrive on what will be the 11th anniversary of the attack on the U.S.
You wanna know something? The more I think about it, the more I'm okay with it. Actually, I kinda like the idea.
September 11 is a terrible day because of what happened and all the lives that were lost. For those of us who were alive and cognizant, we will always remember where we were and what we were doing. To those who helped in the aftermath, our eternal thanks.
But I feel that part of the healing process is finding a way to make that day more, for lack of a better way to put it, positive. I don't mean we need to be happy smiley nutcases every year when September 11 comes around. But we need to find a way to think better of the day and all the evil that occurred.
What better way to do that than by bringing a child into the world? Is there any greater joy than new life?
Is there any better way to honor those who died than by looking in the eyes of a newborn and seeing nothing but hope and joy and unadulterated love?
If there is, I can't think of it.
So, bring it on, Karma! I'll take that September 11 delivery date and OWN IT!
Of course a post full of life and love would be followed up by a TUA regarding loss. Karma... fickle bitch, ain't she?
I want to offer my condolences to the family and friends of actor Michael Clarke Duncan who passed away yesterday from complications arising from a heart attack he suffered earlier in the summer.
Duncan was just a beast of a man physically. Massive and towering in appearance with a booming voice that would blow out most subwoofers. But you just knew, watching him, that he was a teddy bear.
Over the course of about 15 years, he took roles in movies and made them his including The Green Mile, Armageddon, Daredevil, Sin City, and the remake of The Planet of the Apes, among others. He shined in anything he did regardless of whether the movie was any good. Seriously, The Planet of the Apes was something I'd rather forget, but Duncan was amazing as Attar. The same goes with Daredevil. Far from a great film, but he rocked as Kingpin. He played to a T a role I still can't imagine any other human playing.
Mr. Duncan, you will be missed. Sorely.