Terms of Engorgement

I thought only my wife’s boobs were supposed to get big.

But, man, check out my moobs. I swear they weren’t this big before. Well, thus far my life has been closely following those daddy-to-be books, and weight gain has been no exception. Many books talk about how fathers will experience sympathy pregnancy symptoms, also known as Couvade Syndrome. Couvade Syndrome is a condition where the father-to-be experiences pregnancy symptoms such as weight gain, morning sickness, insomnia, labor pains, mood swings, messed up sleep and even postpartum depression. But who gives a crap about that laundry list, I’m getting fat! In fat, I mean in FACT, some studies claim that men gain around 14 LBs during their partner’s prego state, and I’ve been steadily reaching that apex.

I would never have believed it could happen to me. On the one hand I’ve always been pretty active and watched what I eat. And on the other hand I’ve never really noticed any of my “dad-friends” gain this weight. I mean every sitcom dad, who was originally trim, stayed trim during their pregnancy. On “Scrubs,” J.D. didn’t become Heavy D, on “The Office,” Jim Halpert never became Fat Halpert and On “Fat Albert,” well … I never saw a kid so his situation might have been glandular. My point is that this weight gain has really snuck up on me.

To be honest, it’s off-putting. When I met my wife I actually had those diagonal muscles next to my stomach and now they have more of a curviness quality. In this state of my crisis I’m just trying to avoid having to buy new, bigger clothing, so I’ve been trying to hit the gym more and eat healthier. But it’s difficult. It’s tough to choose the gym over working on my kid’s room or on the house, but mostly it’s tough to work out when I don’t have the same energy that used to push me there. I actually used to love working out and now I sweat just getting changed for the gym. And, yes, my clothes situation has changed. I think I cut my wardrobe by a third based on what still fits.

It’s also very challenging to eat a salad when my wife suggests mac and cheese and tater tots for dinner (which I love), or we have the opportunity to celebrate “Burger Month” at Margaretville (which we just did). The one great thing about this experience is that I can feel and eat like a kid again. I also get to share these “too tired for the gym” and “let’s eat pizza rolls for dinner” experiences with my wife. In a way I get the sense that she experiences this as empathy on some level.  

But I know I’m not healthy and it’s time to turn things around. Gaining weight also has the ability to make people feel poorly about themselves and I want to catch it before it reaches that point. My thinking in writing this post is to call myself out. I want to be a ball of energy for when Baby Dino arrives. After all, I am home with him for a full year so I need to be on my toes. I also want to be able to run across the house to soothe him when necessary (because, let’s be honest, who wants a crying baby in the next room from you). So I begin a pledge to myself today of becoming a more energetic and active father for my baby. I will not be staring in “Who’s eating all of Gilbert’s Grapes,” or playing Rose DeWitt in Titanic (though I would still let Leo paint me naked … I mean, who wouldn’t?). My final promise to you is that you will never find me out of breath rocking the little one in my new stylish and contemporary rocking chair, rather you will find me rocking and rolling with the little one in my new stylish and contemporary rocking chair.

Celebrating “Burger Month” At Margaretville with the Ultimate Burger Melt

(Photo credit: My Awesome Wife)

My Baby Hates Me

A magical moment occurred. My wife felt the baby moving around in her belly. How amazing is that!? There were mini- kicks and punches a la David Carrradine (Of course I’m referring to the Carradine from “Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, not the one just “hanging out” in his garage). This indeed was a great moment for us in the development of our baby and family.

Up to this point we’ve only been able to experience a pixilation of our child as he danced around and flashed us on a computer monitor (which for some reason is only positioned for those laying on the gurney). It’s been awesome to see the little one move around and hear his adorable heartbeat, but it’s time to step it up a notch! For the past few weeks my wife has been grabbing my hand and placing it on her belly when she feels the baby. I felt nothing and then I felt nothing and after that, I again felt nothing. My baby must hate me.

In a book I recently examined, it talked about how the father-to-be may experience some jealously when it comes to their partner feeling the baby much sooner. Poppy-Cock! I know I have Womb Envy but this is ridiculous. Well, the book was right … color me green. Days and weeks went by with my wife feeling the baby and I nothing. I’ve tried singing, talking in a weird high pitched-raspy voice, reading, and even knocking on my wife’s belly to see if he’s home, but again I felt nothing. I came to the foregone conclusion that my baby does indeed hate me. This was a tough few weeks for me. I didn’t enter into a clinical depression or an adjustment disorder with depressed mood, but I was down and this was a weird feeling. This was something I was really looking forward to and it was difficult not to experience it when I wanted to.

Well, my 3 weeks of “the blues” ended one night while watching TV. As my wife placed my hand on her belly, I felt a punch and I let out a geschrei! Could this be the little whippersnapper!? It was indeed! My very own baby let me feel him. Now it wasn’t as strong as a donkey kick or that scene from the movie “Aliens,” (though it is true that in the womb, no one can hear you scream) but it was fantastic.

For the next week I was prepared to feel him kick like a machine. I kept my hand at my side Iike a gunner in wild west duel and … nothing. My baby still hates me? What! Now, I’m a patient man, but this was getting ridiculous. I have a friend that’s due on the same day and he can feel his baby kick all the time. Just as I was starting to doubt that the punch I felt was real, last night I felt an array of kicks from the nino. It was like the Rockettes were doing an encore (not Roxette, though they probably look similar at this point in his gestation), there were more kicks than a Stride Rite, It was a football game that went to 4^th down every series, my wife had a “kick-me” sign on the inside of her belly, he was here to kick ass and chew bubble gum and was all out of bubble gum. I was so excited that I wanted to do a pratfall like a soccer player or an aspiring actor who’s probably in an improv troupe named “Harry Plotter,” “Home IMPROVment,” or “Cactus Vinegar and the Holy Peanut Butter .” I hope this great feeling continues and my baby keeps saying hello to me. I know that my baby loves me and of course I have similar feelings towards him. I’ll admit it though; it’s nice to feel his little kicks. It’s an added bonus and makes me want him to arrive even sooner. One thing for sure is I’m going to “Billy Madison” it up alot. I know my baby will love it, but my wife on the other hand, well ….