December 15, 2000 - Friday
It started a year ago tonight. Harry's then-future mother and I had gotten in bed some 5 or 10 minutes before and at about 11:50pm or so she said, "I think it's starting." In child birth class we learned about false labor and other mysterious pushing and kicking that often tempts pregnant mothers into thinking it is time, so she wasn't sure if it was the real thing. She went to the bathroom and returned saying, "I think my water broke." "Well, do you really think so?" I asked. She got back in bed and we tried to decide what to do. If one's water breaks the hospital wants to see them right away due to the risk of infection, but she wasn't completely sure and we didn't want to be stereotypically overanxious parents-to-be. After another 10 minutes or so of discussion, she called the hospital. They, indeed, said we should come immediately.

As planned, on our way to the hospital we stopped at the lab to update this website with the news. I had a page ready to go, but because we weren't completely sure whether Harry was really on his way, I qualified the text slightly. It was 12:30pm, though, and nobody apparently ever saw that first page. After confirming the circumstances at the hospital, the nurses sent us home with the cryptic advice to "try to get some sleep" and come back in the morning. On the way home, I changed the page again, this time leaving no doubt of Harry's pending arrival. Not surprisingly, we didn't get much sleep, Harry's mother even less than I, and we returned to the hospital (less than ten minutes away) an hour earlier than recommended at a little before 6:00am. Harry was born some thirteen and a half hours later.

I remember that night a year ago fondly and realize now that in a real sense it was our last night alone together. It's cliché to say so, and we really didn't pause to look at our apartment one last time as people often suggest, but our lives are different. It's not so much that our lives were turned upside down, or that Harry has been so demanding as to monopolize every waking hour, but the pace of our life together has changed. That's not a terrible thing, and Harry has certainly given us many thrills over the last year, but lying in bed that night was not with a constantly open ear toward anyone but ourselves.


Comments, opinions?