The Impatience of Being Tim, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bean

Father-to-be-Birkel, finally getting back to blogging.

So today we had our first appointment at the birthing center where we’ll have our baby. Expectations is in Muncie, approximately a half mile from my job. This works pretty well, and will be even better once we complete our move to Pendleton/Anderson. We had been to Expectations to tour it before, but this was our first actual appointment.

If you know me at all, you will know I lack patience. I’m working on it, but boy do I hate “wasted time.” And what I consider “wasted time” is leaving work at 9:15 for a 9:30 appointment only to wait until 10:30 to actually be seen. Needless to say, my ever-loving and longsuffering wife spent a good deal of time trying to keep me calm in the waiting room.

Even before s/he is born, our little one is teaching me to calm down and be patient.

Turns out, the waiting was worth it. We both loved the midwife – Barb. She was so much easier to talk to and listened so much better than our previous OB. She truly helped allay any fears I had over this whole natural childbirth/birth center thing. Did I mention I’m also not great with trying new things? Another part of my personality that this pregnancy (and Alissa especially) are helping to change.

So even though I had to leave in the middle of the appointment for a meeting and then come back, I left the birth center happy and reassured that our little bean is in good hands. I feel at peace.

When I did *not* feel at peace was a few nights ago when Alissa encouraged me (not for the first time) to sell my drum set. I, like every other teenager in America, was in a garage band at one point and secretly think of my self as a rock-star in waiting. Though any illusions about that have long since faded, actually selling my drums would be physical, tangible proof that I was old, utterly uncool, and boring. I have a great desire to be creative, and playing the drums was one outlet for that – one that I still kind of have at church but which is really closed to me at this point.

I think I told Alissa that I was sad because I didn’t feel like I’d ever do anything great with my life now that I had to settle down and sell things like my drum set to buy things like a crib and a changing table. And Alissa, as she usually does, managed to say the perfect thing – she told me that I go to work every day to put a roof over our heads and give our bean a stable household to grow up in,  and that these are great things that I do every day. That really helped me, to see things through her eyes. And she explained to me that every two and three year old thinks their daddy is great — in fact, just about the best daddy in the whole wide world.

I think I can live with that.

I’m still struggling with the transition into thinking of myself as a father, and putting the needs of our baby ahead of whatever crazy dreams of being a writer or a musician or whatever that I had. But it’s coming along. I’m beginning to think that with Alissa’s help, by the time our baby arrives, I’ll be just about ready.

And then I’ll realize I had no. freaking. clue. 🙂


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