I stayed up until 2:00 am... waiting... I woke up at 5:00 am... checking... At 7:00 am I finally received news, Becca went into labour, I am officially almost an uncle. Guaranteed within the next several hours I believe. Actually, I have no clue how long a woman can be in labour. For Becca's sake I'm praying that Maggie won't be the pill that she has been the last week and half and "come out" easy. I sit here hoping, grasping, and suffocating myself, almost, with the anticipation of finally hearing the news and seeing that first picture. I am in complete, undeniable turmoil as I ponder over the fact that I have essentially let Maggie down and "left" her [basically] alone in the delivery room. Me not being there would be the equivelent of The Beatles not having Jon Denver on the night of a concert. Oh well, I'm hoping that I can be forgiven. I must go now, I have to throw up. I think I'm sick. Don't worry though, I am only in a foreign country with no immediate hospital or medical assistance in a nearby vicinity. For now.
Uncle Jonny
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I love your analogies, for instance the Beatles bit. I had just one problem though... you acted like you were letting Maggie down... as if she were alone in the delivery room. Not true, Josef and I waited and anticipated and well, practically suffocated ourselves for a good 34 hours straight and finally the little one popped out after our non-stop repititious encouragements and bribes. (Okay, between you and me they wouldn't actually "let me in" to the actual delivery room per se, but... like I stated before, the TV room is very close. And just cuz it's a TV room doesn't mean I was necessarily "watching" TV. Or at least not fully enjoying it. That much at least.
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