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  • After the first trip to the hospital that turned out to be a false alarm, we came back a week later determined to have a baby.  It must have been very comfortable inside Katherine because Isabel was determined not to leave the womb.  After several more hours of trying to induce labor, the doctors decided to perform a C-section.  I did what I could to be useful by doing thing like rubbing Katherine’s back, eating the complementary food in the kitchen area, and almost passing out on top of the anesthesiologist when he was performing the epidural.  Apparently I’m a bit more squeamish than I thought.

    So, a long story short– the C-section went fine, and Isabel had to make a few adjustments like breathing air, receiving nutrition through her mouth, and not being allowed to lounge around all day in that warm soft jacuzzi of a uterus.

  • I’ve decided to report one million people live in my house on my official census form to qualify my residence as a new Congressional district.  This would give me a good shot at finally getting elected to the House of Representatives, provided I can convince the dog not to vote for my wife.  (note to self:  focus on milk bone subsidies during the campaign.)

  • OK, so I’m not exactly posting all this stuff in chronological order.  In fact, as I write this, Isabel is celebrating her 30th birthday and I’m a crazy old man in a retirement home yelling at my cats and repeatedly showing the staff members the litter box.  But I digress.

    So here is Isabel’s second ultrasound taken in August 2009.  We decided against the three dimensional ultrasound.  Apparently the procedure uses high energy nutrino beams which scientists believe led to the creation of Magnito, high fructose corn syrup, and Sarah Palin. Maybe not, but in the end we decided that we would be able to wait for the three dimensional version that was planning on squirming out in a few months. This high tech image of Katherine’s insides confirmed what we suspected all along: her belly is getting bigger.

    One thing that has been surprising is my wife’s mood.  It really hasn’t changed at all– she is as happy as a clam.  I don’t know why we think clams are all that happy to begin with, but, hey, that’s the expression.  Too late to change it now.

    So stay tuned for more retroactive baby updates aged in a bath of sarcasm, powdered with a touch of nostalgia, and dressed up in a cute onesie of experience.