My wife gave birth to our third child, a beautiful little girl, two days before Thanksgiving. She came out very small, 6lbs 14oz. Within a few weeks she didn't seem so small anymore. That didn't stop all of the fear associated with knowing that she completely depends on my wife for everything. Obviously I help out when I can, but I simply don't produce milk.
What frightens me the most is when the newest little chokes. Breathing seems like such a simple thing to us who have taken nearly 20 million breaths, but when you have only done it 1,000 or so times you aren't going to be good at it. Today she is somewhere close to 120,000 breaths and at least 100 of them scared the crap out of me. All it takes is a little bit of spittle at the wrong time and 'BAM!' she struggles to breathe. Maybe it is because I think that suffocating would be one of the worst ways to die, but I start to panic. She has always made it through, so until she doesn't, I should just enjoy her.
She's nice.
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1 comment:
I like the way you put this.
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