That's right. Today, for the first time in his life, Justin will see a woman give birth to a child.
The "best" part is that his rotation (by his choice--so he could check out the doctors) is at the San Diego Naval Medical Center. Yeah. Five minutes from our apartment and where my gynecologist's office is located. They've just finished remodeling the rooms for the labor and delivery patients. A couple of years ago I was pretty excited about that and looked at the renderings every chance I got.
I thought Justin's choice was great because my doctor has been promoted out of seeing patients and into doing more paperwork, so now Justin can figure out who I should chose to be my new Primary Care Physician. But he said, "I can check the doctors out, just in case."
"Just in case what?" I asked, looking at him quizzically and honestly perplexed. Of course I'd need a gynecologist. All women do.
"In case we have a baby."
"Seriously?" I asked, looking at him while we walked toward the pharmacy and passed the obstetrics office.
"I'm just not ruling out any possibilities," he said.
"Seriously?" This time I looked at him and then ahead and I do not know if he could read the confusion and trepidation on my face. But he can always read my face.
"I'm just saying...." he said.
"That's my line."
So that's what's happening today. Babies are coming, and Justin will be there for their journey and arrival.
I don't know why it's bothering me so much, but it is.
I'm not jealous of the mothers, like I used to be. I do not want to take their children (do you think they'll notice? That one has a gaggle, I'll just take the littlest one!), like I used to dream (especially if I saw one treated badly). In fact, Justin and I have almost come to the conclusion that maybe we shouldn't have children of our own. Our gene pool sucks. I mean, I'm sure the kids would be cute (ethnically mixed kids usually are), but they'd be so messed up in the head right from the get go. And then they'd have to live with us. Sure, we're funny and we make sound effects so at least they'd be entertained until they were nine or ten or so, but if it were any time soon that we made a family bigger than the two of us the kid would practically be an orphan. Maybe we could grant him/her 67% of a parent. Justin would be (still) gone all the time, so I'd essentially be a single mom. And I can barely take care of myself these days--I mean, I congratulate myself for getting out of bed and even doing my hair before I leave the apartment (ASAP, so as not to accidentally just stay in bed) for the day. A baby deserves a mom a little more put together than that. Than me. And I deserve not to have to fake having it together like I have for the past 20 some odd years.
And I don't want to take care of anyone else. I've got my hands full with myself (& Justin) right now. It's like I'm learning how to live all over again, and it's not like I'm a stupid teenager who thinks having a baby will solve all my problems because he/she will love me. I've got enough friends with kids to know a baby would just need me to take care of it 24/7 and he/she would never say even thank you for the boob-food-machine, or the clean diaper or the third outfit of the day.
Babies are coming.... and going to someone else. (And when I think of all those military women I see in the pharmacy and the commissary I know these women aren't exactly all that well equipped for the mothering job either, but at least Justin and I have the sense to recognize the deficiencies in ourselves. )
I think maybe what I'm jealous of is that Justin gets to be there when a brand new life comes into the world. And he probably gets to do it lots of times today--he called me at lunch (after the surgery rotation he knows to eat when he can; one of the other guys was going to wait an hour until he was hungry, but Justin said there was a lot of moaning and screaming coming from the women, so that other guy will probably end up hungry for quite some time).
I've never seen a live birth other than on TV. I don't have sisters, so I probably never will see birth happen. I think I'm sad and jealous that not only do I not get to be a part of the miracle of creating and growing and raising a whole entire person, I don't even get to witness it.
I think maybe I'll take a nap or clean the house or go to the commissary now. Maybe not the commissary. All the women are bursting with children there. The military procreate like rabbits.