Stories From the Delivery Room

You can swap stories, you can swap wives, you can swap babies at birth, you can even go to a swap meet…but can you swap blogs?

Well, that’s exactly what we’re going to attempt here: This week, wife.mom.nurse and Switch 2 Plan B (AKA “Fire Hubby”) are trading blogs.

“Fire Hubby” (that’s me) will be writing this week’s posting here on wife.mom.nurse, while my wonderful wife Julie will be posting over on my site—and no doubt telling some really embarrassing story about me there.

Click HERE to see what she's got to say...

I understand that baby stories are popular here at wife.mom.nurse, so I’m going to tell you the ONE baby story she won’t tell you! It’s the true tale (mostly) of the time Julie delivered her own first-born.

***

I came home one morning after a long shift at the fire station to find my young bride obviously bursting with some pressing secret.

“I have something for you,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Close your eyes.”

When I opened them again, she was holding up a denim jacket—a really, really small blue denim jacket, better suited for a Cabbage Patch doll than her six foot-tall husband.

But if you give a fireman a moment or two, he can usually figure out the plainly obvious. See, only about a week or two earlier we had decided to start our family. Now, this was my wife’s way of letting me know that the magic stick had clearly turned blue already. The tiny Levi’s jacket meant we were expecting our first child.

It must have been strange for wife.nurse to transition to wife.mom.nurse. After working on the labor and delivery unit for six years by then, she would now go through the experience for herself: the barfing, the cravings, the bloating, the labor pains—the entire blessed event that, nine months later, would be swaddled in a bundle of joy and sewn up as tidy as an episiotomy.

(to be continued)