It has now been one week since my little "Belle" made her entrance into this world. What follows is her story . . .
“Michael . . . Michael I am having contractions.” My eyes opened and I saw my wife in the light shining from the bathroom. She was leaning in the doorway steadying herself by the door frame. As this information penetrated my sleep-filled mind, I tried to see the clock which glowed back at me. It was 2:45am. As the adrenaline began to sweep through my body, I didn’t notice the usual ache that comes from being rudely awaken after only three-and-a-half hours of sleep.
As I clambered out of bed my mind began to actively take hold of the situation. The feeling was not a state of panic or surprise, but the processes of mental preparation that you go through when you go through a check list for a big event. Katherine was 39 weeks and 6 days pregnant. Her official due date was the next day (the 27th). Any feelings of anxiety or lack of preparedness for the arrival of our second child, I had experienced the night before when Katherine had informed me during a break in our movie (Babbet’s Feast) that she was having contractions.
The contractions were not consistent enough to load up the car or wake our sleeping almost two-year-old son, but they were frequent enough to cause a flurry of packing once the movie had concluded. Katherine’s bag had been packed several weeks ago. Luke’s three days prior. My bag was yet to be packed, possibly a reflection on my unpreparedness or possibly my unwillingness to acknowledge the imminent arrival of my second child.
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