Luckily I made it out of the bathroom in time to meet my son.

My wife started feeling contractions so we headed to the hospital.

However, things were moving really slowly. The doctor suggested we stop for the night and induce her in the morning.

Around 7am they administered Pitocin and the race was on. Our baby boy would be there soon. We were nervous and exhausted, but excited!

After lunch we were still waiting. A kind nurse asked if I would like one of those single serving ice creams.

My young, tired, dumb-ass, lactose intolerant self said,

“Sure”.

It was chocolate, mmmm!

Within an hour, my wife was almost 7 cm dilated, so it was time to push. I was holding her hand when I felt the first southern earthquake.

Maybe only a 2.0 Magnitude, but I thought,

uh oh.

Five minutes later was the BIG ONE. We’re talking a 9.5 Magnitude. California just fell in the ocean. I felt buildings crumble and bridges collapse in my intestines.

“Honey, um…I’ll be right back”.

“What? Where the hell are you going???!!”

“I have to use the restroom really quickly”.

“WTF, Get back here!!”

I could hear my wife screaming as she pushed in the room next to me.

From the bathroom, I was hurting too.

What a pair we made!!!

There was a knock at the door.

“Sir, its about time. You’re going to want to be here for this”.

Groan, ow, ow, ow. “Arrgmost done!”

I forced my pants back on and limped back into the delivery room…just in time to see the top of my son’s head.

I will NEVER forget those beautiful moments again! Any of them. lol.

*Yes, a father should be there during delivery…if he can.*

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ps. My wife actually likes this story. At least I felt *some* of her pain.