MY Husband is a Wimp!

We were expecting our first child I bought every book on Amazon about pregnancy and child-birth, and read them from cover to cover. I’d lie on the couch, ordering Mars Bars and Diet Coke for dinner. You see, I had acquired a slave during pregnancy, and boy did I take advantage of him. IrishDev pandered to my every whim. Well, nearly every whim.

My husband is a Wimp!

There was one thing I could not get him to do, read a book about child-birth. I would bitch and moan, “You should know what to expect, be prepared”, “It IS really interesting”, “You don’t want to know what is going on with OUR baby?” And it always ended with a final rant “I am NOT the only one having THIS baby.” Exit. Slam door. Shout out for him to go get me another Mars Bar. But no amount of emotional black-mail worked. I was perplexed. Usually I could wrap this guy around my little finger, but maybe I was loosing my Midas touch.

My husband is a Wimp!

We signed up for some anti natal classes. He came along willingly, if not a little apprehensively. We sat down, and the nurse talked us through some basics. Then she whipped out a spine and talked about the baby’s position in relation to the mother’s body. Next thing she made a little joke.

I turned to IrishDev to acknowledge her humour, and he was out cold. I quietly tried to rouse him. Had he fallen asleep after a tough day at the office? Was it all just too boring for him? He didn’t wake up. Irrational baby brain went into full action mode. Panic set in, and I thought he was dead. I jumped up and started hitting his face.”Come on, wake up….WAKE UP…DON”T LEAVE ME……” (Slight over reaction). The nurse was at my side now; asking has he any medical conditions, a diabetic, an epileptic, as she attempted to put him in the recovery position. Then suddenly he came to. I was so relieved.

My husband is a Wimp!

Why did this happen? Turns out, he’s a wimp. When the nurse started talking about bones, blood, and a little gore he fainted. He couldn’t read the books, because blood, bones, and other details make him squeamish, and faint. Hey, no one’s perfect.

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