Finding Out
At the age of thirty-three, having been married for almost thirteen years, I was rather surprised when my wife told me she was pregnant. Not just pregnant, but several months along. It was one of those things that happens when your wife takes you out to eat, but specifically makes sure that you eat and drink exactly what you want. I wondered why she was being so nice to me.
So, that was quite a shock, then all of the other stuff started to set in. The fact that my wife was thirty-three as well, which isn't very old to start having children, but it is less than optimal. The chances for a woman to have complications start to go up about this age. Also, the chances of harm to the baby are also increased. If the mother has complications, there is a significant risk to the child as well. There is also some recent data that suggests that the older the father the higher the risk for autism. With all of this bouncing around in my head, I freaked.
Too Much Information
When you freak out at my age the first place you turn is to the trusty electronic box of knowledge and that friend of the inveterate worrier, the Internet. Needless to say, by the time I got done with my research, any fears that I might have had before were amplified. I was white and shaking and had a heck of a time going to sleep, because I was so scared for my wife and unborn child that it was all I could do to keep from just throwing in the towel and surrendering to uncontrollable panic.
Well, you can't do that, because your wife and unborn child need you. Over the next several weeks, I gradually got better until my wife had an amniocentesis that came back abnormal. If you don't know what that is, that's where they take a needle about the length and width of a pencil, push it through the abdominal wall into the uterus and take a sample of the amniotic fluid. My wife thought that she was just going in for a check-up, but because of her age they decided to do one of these as well. Needless to say, I was at work and when the news came back, my wife was less than pleased that I wasn't with her. Guys, go to the check-ups! Take the time off and do it, I missed two and both ended up being less than good.
After talking to several doctors and staying away from the Internet, we decided that the risks for an abnormality were not high enough to worry about. The doctors told us that there was a small chance that this was a problem, but it wasn't unusual for some part of the panel to come back slightly odd, especially when the woman was not of optimum child bearing age. So, we rolled the dice and went with it.
Not Going Well
I went to the next two check-ups and they were great. We got to see ultrasounds of the little one and watch it (we didn't want to know, boy or girl) move around. My wife was doing very well, weight gain was right on track, but she was starting to notice that her ankles and feet were swelling a lot. Not unusual in a pregnant woman, we thought. I guess I should have gotten on the Internet to check it out. I did afterwards and wished I had earlier.
She had a checkup at the beginning of February and I was working on house. We decided to remodel before the baby came (not a good idea) and I was finishing up the basement. We had the electrician over working on some wiring and god alone knew if I was going to be able to get him back there again any time soon. She had to go for her seven month check-up and I was busy, so I asked her if she could do this one alone. She didn't have any problem with it, so we let it go at that.
I had to get ready for work and I don't normally take my cell phone into the shower with me, so I didn't hear her call. I was on my way to work before I checked my voice mail. She was on the phone crying her eyes out and telling me they were taking her to the hospital. Guys, again, go to the checkups!!! I called work, told them I wouldn't be there and broke several laws getting to the hospital. I found her. She looked pretty good actually, hooked up like an astronaut and in that most sexy of garments, the hospital gown.
