Midlife Surprise!!!

As I write this, I know I will have to save publishing it for some time. Who knows…maybe I will make a series of posts to document this.

Recently, my wife had not been feeling well. She just figured that she had contracted whatever “bug” was going around the school where she works or that she caught something from Spider-Man* or Bonecrusher*. Rest (or at least as much as possible with two little guys running around will allow) was what she needed.

After more than a week of this malaise, I suggested we get a home pregnancy test. And, you can guess it, POSITIVE!

Navigating old rivers in older boats

Man kayaking rapids as allegory for navigating the surprise of a pregnancy
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

This is surprise for us. I’m approaching an Abrahamic age here, and my wife is north of 40. We are very excited and apprehensive. Each of our pregnancies has been considered “at-risk”, so there’s a lot of praying (and trying to keep all positive vibes).

Our insurance has apparently changed their policies since the birth of Bonecrusher, so that is an ongoing fiasco right now. We are blessed that we have health insurance (since so many either don’t have access to high-quality health insurance or have inadequate insurance). It just means that there is so much new red tape we must encounter.

I’m definitely so excited! I thought my days of holding a little baby in the glider while butchering a Sheryl Crow tune or Queen anthem were over. [Brief sidetrack: Freddie Mercury can still put Bonecrusher to sleep.]

I’m very into nesting this time around. Our previous nursery is now the boys’ “Wrestle Room”, and we need to keep it that way if we want the rest of the house to stand. We’ve decided to turn my office into “Baby Groot’s” [nickname at least for now] nursery and turn a different area in the house into my office, so there are so many things to do. [That alone could be a blog.]

It is so exciting, and we can’t wait to welcome Baby Groot into the world!


*Their names have been changed to protect the innocent (or not-so-innocent at times). This is what happens whenever you let little boys decide on nicknames.

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