A little bit of boo

Day 12 of the GPW (Gabrielle Poop Watch) continues, as I've continued to avoid seeing any trace of Poop coming from my daughter. I know you're all incredibly excited to hear how it will all turn out, so I'll keep you updated as things develop (pun intended.)

When I found out that I was going to be a father, I was incredibly nervous about the whole chain of events that would ensue. One of the main things that I was worried about was the whole birthing process. Sure, I'd seen the delivery videos where they show the process of the child being born, but that's not where I thought things would be difficult for me.

My job in life, or at least the job that I've taken for myself, is that I want to make people laugh, and the one person that I want to make laugh more than anyone else is Sarah. So, as the date got closer and closer I realized that I had no material. I had nothing that I was going to be able to use to even give her the slightest giggle. I knew I couldn't just be helpful to get through this, I'm no good at actually helping people. I had to be "on my game," and I had nothing.

As we got closer to the due date, I figured I would still have time to come up with some good jokes. After all, we'd have hours while she'd be in labor that I could pull out a few zingers and then pull a Costanza. (Thank you! Goodnight!)

Then Sarah started to have some difficulties and we were brought in and they chose to induce labor. If you don't know about the induction process, it's not a very pleasant one, but I'll explain it as best I can. Basically, you go from walking around and being generally ok with the world to having to deal with unbelievable amounts of pain every 2 to 3 minutes, and this process can take hours before you're ready to deliver the child.

Seriously. How can I work in jokes with that sort of timing? So, right away I knew that anything involving a Priest and a Rabbi was out. It would just take too long to get to the punchline. I was down to one-liners and like I said before, I just didn't have my material ready. I was going to be about as useful as a box of condoms in a monastery (translation? not very useful.)

So, I helped Sarah as much as I could. I talked with her and rubbed her back and did all of the things that future fathers should do to help out their wives, but I was still out of material.

Eventually, the labor got so bad (after 7 hours of it. What a trooper she was.) for Sarah that she wasn't able to take the pain anymore and she got an epidural to help. After the epidural set in she was able to get some sleep and they woke her up later when she was ready to start pushing.
When Sarah began pushing there was only 4 of us in the room, Sarah, myself, and two other women (one was the nurse, I can't remember who the other was.) The pushing seemed to be going rather quickly and before we knew it we could see the top of our baby's head. I was so focused in on the whole event that I didn't notice anything other than Sarah or the baby.
Then I looked up and there were 7 women in the room.

I said, "Um, I think I'm a little light on Estrogen to be in this room."

That got Sarah laughing (as well as the rest of the women.) for the first time that day.

In fact the doctor, who had snuck in, said that Sarah could be the first woman she had seen laugh her baby out. To me, that was the highest compliment that I could have received.

After about 5 or 10 more minutes we did welcome our little girl into the world and all was well. At that point there were more tears than laughs, but I got my one line in, and we all felt better for that.

Ok, seriously... Did that last sentence sound more like the end of a Wonder Years episode or an episode of Doogie Howser?