No More Tears?



Life is funny and full of surprises.

It may surprise many of people to learn that I cry quite a lot. I cry at movies, during television shows and even some commercials.  I know that some of the things that make me cry are nothing more than emotionally manipulative plots with added melancholy music.   Even schmaltzy Hallmark specials have my tears flowing.  Perhaps the apex of my emotionality resulted from a television special,The Golden Moment, that I saw in junior high school.

As we prepared for the birth of our first child my wife and I attended prenatal and basic parenting classes.  I remember asking one nurse whether I would recognize my child after the baby was born?  I remember getting choked up just asking the question.  She assured me that I would and that just to make sure we would get matching bracelets until we left the hospital; so there was no reason to worry about taking the wrong child home.

So, when my daughter was born, I fully expected the moment to be full of sentiment, emotion and crying.  During the delivery?  No tears.  Perhaps it was the c-section.  After the delivery? Nothing.  First bath? Not at all.  First day of diaper changes introducing my daughter to my family and the in-laws?  A lot of excitement but not a drop from my eyes.   Because she arrived a couple weeks early, I even attended the baby shower on the very same day while my wife remained in the hospital with our daughter.  Through it all I was a happy and giddy, yet apparently unmoved, dad.

This seriously freaked me out.  I was not reacting the way I expected I would to the birth of my first child.  So the following day I awoke and realized that with all of the excitement and early arrival of my daughter I had failed to arrange for a substitute teacher for my Sunday School class.  I asked my wife what I should do and she told me to go home, shave and shower and teach the class.  She would be fine and cared for by the hospital staff.  After reconfirming that it was okay, I went home to get ready for my church meeting.

While at home I took the opportunity to call the Fisher Price company because I needed a part to make a swing that my sister gave me work properly.  While on the phone the woman asked me for the name on the account. When I told her my name, she said, "No, what is your child's name?"

At that moment I couldn't even speak her name.  I was seriously bawling.  There were tears, there was blubbering, there was sniffling.  I actually had to hang up and call back.  Even during the second call I stammered and stuttered to get them the information.

Just one of life's surprises. I finally got the emotional response and cry I expected.

It just took a phone call to Fisher Price.

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