1. What I’ve developed and enjoyed from this class, interims of writing style and form would include voice, cohesion, transitions and different communication styles and structures. One aspect I enjoyed was word play or intended meanings. As well as incorporating complex structures into the direction of my papers. Basically each of my papers resembles some linier direction with specific emphasis on dramatic event and word play to paint a picture only visible through study. The paper which resembles this structure most predominantly was the paper on my son’s birth. I structured within that paper, rolling ebbs and flows similar to child birth. Additionally, I included language which drew lines of panic, humility, fear and chaos. These lines dramatically resemble what is in store for all new parents and the demands to evolve ones character and perspective for the wellbeing of your off spring. Ultimately the paper characterizes a coming of age or rather a transition from self interest to selflessness.         
2. What I find interesting is the complexity of word usage and how if structured intentionally a picture can be painted through intensity and voice resembling something similar to topography. For instance if I say, ”To enjoy life one must consider all possible outcomes and plan accordingly” and then I say in another way, “Life is a blast because its full of possibility; the best part, is figuring out what path to take.” The intended voice comparison is flat verses enthusiastically vibrant. If you consider the strength of each word and its implied meaning while considering the writers intent you can visualize the first being flat and the second as rolling hills. This aspect of writing I find fascinating. I hope to one day create a waltz in which readers can dance and play.          

This radiant glow would eventually empower man to manipulate and harness his environment catapulting his position to the top of the animal kingdom. Man and fire would rule the earth for eons to come. Together they travel through time like spouses, like lovers in a tumultuous relationship. Ultimately the relationship will not last because of either the fickle nature of fire or life. One thing will prosper in the end and that is change. But isn’t that exactly fire. Is fire change?

Fire is the embodyment of change and has lite the way for humanities success over the ages. Now our understanding of Fire has evolved to the point that we seek particals verses thermoddynamic  energy. Particals are derived from a form of change much like heat energy is derived from change but with one exception. Partical energy is highly refined and extreemly dangerous. One source of partical energy is the sun. This is likely our most viable option since the energy source is vast and rich. It is a giant nuclear power plant in the sky.

Since the dawn of life plants inhabiting the earth utilized the suns free energy taking full advantage of this resource. We should learn from plants because they are the only continuously thriving species of life on earth. In other words, one-must assume plants have figured out what works because they have never faced extinction. The only reason our planet is inhabitable is because of that giant glowing sphere in the sky.            

I wonder, why would anyone pursue renewable energy through wind, water or geothermal sources? The reason I ask this is the law of diminishing returns. Simply put, when you draw power solitary source, energy is lost. If this energy is drawn from a solitary source, eventually, its energy will diminish much like a battery. Why deplete the Earths stored energy? 

            Lets take wind powered renewable energy for instance. Sure, wind creates power if you utilize a turbine windmill. But did any one consider the impact of 20 million wind turbines, and their effects on our atmosphere? Imagine slowing down storms, or stacking storms upon storms in one particular region. Wind turbines are basically giant wind blocks harnessing momentum from air molecules. We should consider wind turbines the same as sand paper along the earth’s surface: gently slowing our atmospheric rotations causing flooding in specific regions.

            Water on the other hand is quite promising as a renewable energy source. The reason for this, water contains two oxygen molecules and one hydrogen molecule. When one divides these molecules naturally through enzymes or algae and then recombines them energy’s released. Before I go into this, presently humans utilize water’s natural pull towards gravity. Dams provide a wonderful source of electric power because it utilizes waters relationship with gravity. The only major problem humans face is that dams must situate near specific water sources and consequently rob geographically lower cities of available water. In addition, some energy entrepreneurs poeticize tidal forces can provide an energy source in the future. One major problem with this concept is that removing energy from our oceans will magnify the slow down of oceanic currents caused by arctic and Antarctic melting.  The only major benefit water technology could produce is enzyme and algae separation of water molecules. As proven in 1993 by a biological engineer in Canada, algae can naturally separate oxygen and hydrogen molecules in the right conditions. This technology could be utilized in the form of enzyme research. Each of these technologies could easily yield a major breakthrough in energy technologies equivalent to the solar industry.

            Geothermal technology faces the same dilemmas as wind technologies. Every physicist and geologist knows that depleting the earth’s mantel of too much heat would spell disaster. For this reason geothermal is limited in its possibilities. We can only claim what comes to the surface. But we must also treed carefully with those prospects because the heat expelled from the mantel warms our environment and plays a critical role in our survival. Again the energy withdrawn from this source must remain limited.

An unregulated free market system holds many dangers primarily because it is ran by self-interest corporations focused on profit. I remember reviewing several articles years ago, which painted a stunning portrait of corporations. These articles, explained quite definitively the stark resemblance between corporations and sociopaths. I found these articles fascinating because one could apply the same model of psychoanalysis to better understand a free market system. I remember the author listing side by side the the characteristics of both a cooperation and a sociopath. After studying those characteristics I listed them again side by side comparing characteristics of a sociopaths to a free market system. I found that they share identical characteristics except for one major characteristic. That characteristic was public support. A sociopath’s lack of empathy is a telltale characteristic and one that a free market system shares with one exception. A free market system is literally regulated by consumer needs and demands. This form of regulation works so long as consumers remain active participants in the unregulated free market system. This model will fail if consumer complacency becomes common.

Comparing our current economic down fall to the above logic reveals the roots of our crisis. A crisis created impart by corporations driving entertainment and luxuries that diminish consumer participation increasing consumer complacency. To sum it up, the primary danger in an unregulated free market system is selfishness on the part of both corporations and consumers. To take this one step further, the more selfish consumers become the more cooperations self interests are met. An analogy, which clearly resembles this model, would look like this: Place two characteristically opposite toddlers, one extroverted the other introverted, alone in a room. Quickly, the problem comes into focus. There is no babysitter to regulate the two when necessary. We have come to a time when regulation is necessary again.

Second, what role, if any, DO YOU THINK the government should have in preventing the collapse of certain so-called “free” markets?

The economic down turn is everyones fault including the government. For this reason I feel the government should have done nothing. When they stepped in and bailed out so many cooperations they violated a major law of business. That law is sink or swim. The reason I feel this is a problem is that these behemoth corporations now wield the rule of law and influence. I say this because now the corporations are acutely aware that the government won’t let them fail, sending a clear message to the market exclaiming, “Get big enough and you can do anything you like. In fact even if you decide to hold us hostage we won’t do anything about it.” Several weeks ago NPR discussed a letter from Deutsche Bank which was exactly that: A ransom note. NPR got together with Deutsche Bank’s CFO and during the interview asked him to explain why they are holding the US government ransom. The CFO acknowledged the letter was just that: A ransom note. He shamelessly affirmed the state of things and didn’t mind discussing the ransom note. One month later The US government gave them billions more than what they already gave.

Suddenly, I felt a nudge on my right shoulder, then Kari’s voice, “he keeps kicking me…jeesh”. Kari reaches across the bed, grabs my left hand, and gently lays my palm atop her pregnant belly. Moments later, I feel her entire stomach clamp down as if to hug our unborn son. For the next fifteen seconds, I could feel the definition of my son’s body through her abdomen. Kari asked, “Did you feel that? He is really moving.” Curiously I thought to myself “It seemed like your belly moved, not our son.” I found it odd Kari couldn’t tell the difference but I held my tongue because she’s a nurse and probably knows better than me. I immediately checked the time on my wrist watch, then replaced my hand atop her belly. I asked, “how long has he been moving?” Kari replied, “About two hours now, I didn’t want to wake you”. After sometime passed, I felt it again. But this time I became certain, her belly moved, not our son. Subtly, I drew my hand away from her stomach and peered into my wrist watch, carefully counting the minutes passing between these, “movements”. I counted to myself “One, Two Three, Four, and Five… Five minutes!”

Instantly, our obstetrician’s words reverberated throughout my thoughts “There is plenty of time to get to the hospital, so don’t freak out. Take your time, support her and drive carefully. Remember, most deliveries take 12 hours and the most dangerous part of any delivery is the commute.” 

Calmly I look over at Kari and said, “I don’t know love, I think it’s your belly moving, not our son…” Kari replied, “No, it’s him moving, I’m sure of it.” Respectfully I accepted the response, and laid my palm on her belly again.  Patiently I waited, until again, I could feel the silhouette of my son through her abdomen. I inquired, “Is he moving now?” Kari replied, “Ya.” I glance at my wrist watch and thought, “Five minutes again”. I stated, “Love, this is happening every five minutes. You’re having labor contractions.” Kari replied, “Are you sure?” I emphasized, “Well every time you thought he was moving, he wasn’t. It was your stomach contracting.” 

I hopped out of bed and flicked on the bedroom light. Kari said, “I’m not sure these are contractions. Let’s call the clinic’s emergency line and see what they say”. Kari grabbed the phone, dials the number to our obstetrician’s after hour’s service, and gets an answering machine. Calmly, she spoke our information into the phone, requested a quick response and hung up. After the phone call Kari stated, “I’m going to soak in the bath till they call back. Maybe he will stop moving”. I thought to myself, “It isn’t him moving, but… okay”.  Meanwhile, I dressed and gathered the suitcase already prepared. Slugishly I hauled the suitcase down stairs, placing it by the front door.

The phone began to rang! Hastily, I darted to the stairs and jogged up them skipping every other. I entered the bathroom and sat quietly on the toilet next to the bath. Kari answered the phone, “Hello.” Quietly I sat next to the bathtub, wilfully containing my anxsiety, trying to subtally easdrop on the murmuring woman’s voice coming from the phone’s earpiece. Kari informed her of what transpired, then paused for a response. During the pause my ears transformed into K-9 ears because I heard every word said to Kari. “Those are contractions; you need to check into the hospital. I will notify your doctor and she will meet you there.” Kari relied “Okay, we are on our way.” Immediately she drained the tub and I helped her step out. She dressed as quick as a bursting woman could and asked for help down the stairs. Like an over sized penguin Kari waddled down the stairs, leaning slowly from right to left to right… At the bottom, we both threw on our jackets and out the door we went.  

After getting her situated inside the car, Kari’s labor pain’s begun. Suddenly, all the pregnancy TV programs we prepairidly studdied, flashed through my mind. One in particular stood out and became my mind’s focus. I recalled watching a woman give birth in the back seat of a car while her husband drove to the hospital. That mental image sent a shock through my system causing my stomach to wrench sideways. I thought, ” I CAN’T LET THAT HAPPEN!” Quickly I ran around the car, got in and cranked the ignotion. Instinctually I wanted to drive like a bat out of hell. Luckily our doctor’s message, “drive safely” still echoed within the recesses of my mind, arresting my impulses. As we drove, each pot hole sent whimpers bellowing from Kari’s mouth. Suddenly a nemesis came into focus, a nemisis in which I could focus all my attention, pot holes. With hawk eyes, I scanned the road, targeting pot holes and swerved around them as elegently as an ice skating champion. Eventually, I simply imagined a top heavy steaming coffee cup sitting ominously atop the dashboard durring the final mile or two of our commute. 

Finally, we arrived at the famous Rose Medical Center. We chose Rose Medical Center because of it’s reputation held by medical industry employees and Doctors.  That reputation boosted “America’s best labor and delivery hospital” and was nationally advertised. As we aproached, four different emergency enterences came into view. I drove into the closest emergency room parking lot. Carfully, I aligning the car into a parking space, making sure Kari received ample room to exit the vehical. We glanced upwords to see a sign “Emergency Vehicles only”. Peering around at the other parking spots, all the parking spaces presented an identical sign. I glanced at the emergency enterence noticing a sign, “NO PUBLIC ACCESS… please use street enterence”. Quickly, I pulled out of the parking lot and parked in front of the emergency street entrance. An orderly strolled up to the car, tapped on the window and informed us curbside parking was not allowed. I exclaimed, “My Wife is in labor! I’ll come back and move it in a few minutes!” He retorted, “You will get towed if you do so.” I turned to Kari and instructed her to go into the hospital while I park the car. After watching her enter the hospital, I parked the car one block away and ran non-stop till I entered the hospital.

After I entered the hospital, we re-registered because our pre-registration information disapeared. Afterwords, we slowly made our way to the elevator and traveled to the third floor. We stepped off the elevator turning left and made our way down a long baje sterile hallway untill we arived at a nurses’ station. Two nurses exclaimed, “Hello” and assigned us a labor room.    

Our labor room offered a spaciouse fivehundered square foot octagonal layout, containing every amenity an expecting mother could want. Entering the room, the longest wall ran along the right side. A labor bed sat center, head board butted to the longest right wall. On either side of the bed, cherry cabinets ran the walls legnth. Immediately to the right, embeded in the cabinets and almost behind the door, a piculiar contraption with heating lamps reminded all who entered, this is not a hotel room. To the left, two angled walls held three doors. Each door offered more and more luxturious plesentries for the pregnant type. The first door, closest upon entering, opened into a large bathroom with an enormous single shower, sink, oversized toilet and a specialized hand rail system for standing births. The second door, right next to the first door, provided inhabitants any desired supplies. The third door, some feet from the second door, opened into another bathroom containing a jetted jaquizie bathtub for water births or relaxation. In the rooma wall adjacent to the right and left walls, parrallel to the enterence, contained large windows and waist high cabinets spanning it’s entire legnth. Centered and attached to the waist high cabinetry sat a transforming bench/bed for would be participants.

Upon entering the glorious labor room Kari undressed, slipped into a hospital gown and gently slid onto the labor bed. Meanwhile, I unloaded my over burdoned arms, called family members, and pulled a chair next to the bed. Glancing up from my perch the clock read 6AM and I began to wonder, “What’s next?” Moments later a nurse entered greeting us, “Hello”, and began to stretch three long Velcro strips around Kari’s mountainous abdomen. As the nurse proceeded, she explained, “The straps identify contractions, measure heartbeats and monitored respiratory activity. The information is feed into the monitoring device to my right.” Finished, the nurse felt Kari’s cervix remarking, “Your at one centimeter. I will check you again in two hours.”  The nurse offered Kari water and exited room explaining, “I’ll be back, if you need assistance just press the call button”. As the door closed Kari remarked, “It’s almost their 7 AM shift change, I bet she just wants to go home so the next nurse can deal with us”.

For the next hour and a half I watched Kari manage her contractions, held her hand, corressed her, soothed her worries and reafirmed all’s well. Her moans reminded me of a chimming grandfatherclock demanding my undevided attention. The only difference, Kari’s chimming moans didn’t arrive on the hour but rather every five minutes. Kari’s every moan became followed by a sqirm of discomfort. With each of Kari’s squirms which peirced my very essence caused a roller coaster of uneasiness within me. Any witness to the scene would surely of discribed us as engaged in an agonizing dance. A dance in which Kari led and I helplessly followed. At one point we called the nurse in to check Kari’s progress. After the nurse viewed the monitor she stated,” I’m not sure your in labor because everyone manages pain differently. Try walking around or laying in the jaqcuzie. I’ll check your cervix at two hours, at which point we’ll likley send you home.” The nurse left the room again repeating, “If you need anything just push the call button.” After the door closed Kari remarked, “I can’t belive she doesn’t think I’m in labor! I can’t belive she doubts my pain threshold! I’m a goddamn nurse!” I replied, “Hopefully our doctor will arrive soon, lets walk around and see if that helps.” 

For thirty minutes we paced the room, then the halls and then the room again failing to assuaged her pain. Every few minutes Kari’s contractions seemed to intensify. With every contraction Kari became more and more anxtous untill she exclaimed, “Nothing is helping! Can you help me into the jaqcuize?” I drew warm water into the bath and helped her enter. Kari adjusted the jaqcuzie jets to no avail. Like a fish halfway out of water she flopped around moaning from the agoney of labor pains. The Bathroom door opened and our Doctor peered in side. The Doctor yelled over the bubbling noise, “You doing ok?” Kari exclaimed, “NO! Nothing is helping”. The doctor replied, “Put your gown on and lay in bed so I can check you out”.

Soon Kari lay in bed while our Doctor examined her and our nurse nonscilontly peered over the doc’s shoulder. Our Doctor commented, “WOW! Five centemeters. How long ago did you arrive?” I replied, “We arrived an hour and a half ago.” Kari exclaimed, “The nurse was going to send us home because she thought I wan’t in labor. She wouldn’t check me till hour two.” The Doctor turned at the torso and breifly glared at the nurse, then turned back, facing us again. The Doctor replied, “Hang in there sweetie. Do you want an epadural?” Kari exclaimed, “Yes!” and continued, “We had a cesarian scheduled for next week because I’m a highrisk pregnancy.” The Doctor replied, “Well lets get the anastesiologist in here to administer an epadural and we’ll take it from there.” Our Doctor continued, “Sadly, I have a scheduled proceedure to attend to but Doctor Sally, another Docotor you have seen can fill in for me. Is that okay? Otherwise I can cancel my proceedure.” Kari replied, “Dr Sally is fine, we like her.” Both the Doctor and Nurse turned to leave the room. As the nurse followed I couldn’t help but notice a regretfull glance back at Kari and I.

It’s now 7:40 AM and Kari and I wait alone in the room expecting an anastesiologist to enter at anytime. Kari’s moans progressivly increase until only three to four minutes pass between them. Her moans, gesters and sqirms became more and more dramatic. During a break between contractions I exclaimed, “Damit when are they going to get here!” Kari replied, “It’s a hospital, it could take hours.” Twenty minutes later a massive contraction caused Kari to shreek, sending shivers down my spine. My eyes grew wide with horror. She turned, looked into my eyes with a ghoastly expression exclaiming, “Somethings wrong.” I felt as if my heart stopped. Immediately I snatched the nurse assistance button, pressing it firmly. I listened, hoping to hear a voice, while next to me Kari melted in agoney. Seconds later, I decide I can wait no longer.  I dash around the labor bed leaping for the door. I reached out, grasped the ocward lever and yanked the combersum wooden beast. Mid yank Kari shreeked again. I spun around. Buckling in pain Kari screams, “THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG!” Just as she finished the ourburst, I heard an odd pop sound from her body. In a woosh bloody water gushed from between her bent spread legs, soaking the bed. I flung the door open to find two nurses chatting plesently at the nurses’s station fifty yards away. I yell with as much authority as I could muster, “WE NEED HELP DOWN HERE… NOW!” A minute later the two nurses poked thier heads in asking, “What was going on.” I exclaim, “She thinks something’s wrong!”

The two nurses meander to her bed side. One presents herself as our new nurse and checks the status of Kari and our son. Consolingly she remarked, “Ohh it’s alright dear, your water just broke, lets get you cleaned up.” Coordinately the two nurses lift Kari and pull an absorbent pad from below her, replacing it with a couple more. Then walk over to the supply closet pilling items out and placing them at the foot of the bed. Meanwhile, Kari squirms and shudders for several more rounds of contractions. Suddenly, Kari makes an unmistakable sound. A nearly demonic sound which sent my mind racing. Instantly, I understood the sevarity of our present situation. This amazing, “Nation’s best hospital” has failed to keep pace with Kari’s labor. Enraged I turn rowards the nurses at the foot of Kari’s bed. There the two nurses stand relaxed, engaged in their own little world. I glare at the two nurses as they open supplies and banter comically about a personal matter. I inject forcfully, “Did you hear that?” Before they could reply, I injected again, “SHE IS PUSHING!”

The nurses freeze and drop their work. One runs to the phone, the other assesses Kari. Kari pushes again. The nurse asssessing Kari, reaches down, feels her cervix and exclaims, “She’s at ten centemeters!” Then nurvously states, “Try not to push dear.” I thought to myself, “Ten inches means, FULL CROWN!!!”  A minute later our anastesiologist rolled in with a large cart followed by an army of nurses. At this point in her labor, Kari could not help but to push. Quickly the nurses pulled Kari upright into a sitting possition with her lower legs dangling off the left side of the bed. Meanwhile the anastesiologist prepaired. I thought to myself, “She can’t have an epadural past eight centemeters. Why are they giving her one?” Immediatly I visualize a prior birthing TV program depicting a patient bear hugging her knees while an epadural needle injects the spin. But before I could voice my concearn the anastesiologist said “Hold perfectly still I’m going to pierce your spinal cord. HOLD PERFECTLY STILL!”. As the needle neared her back, a contraction began and Kari grunted, bearing down more fearcfully than any prior contraction. Like two boa constrictors I wrapped my arms around Kari sinching them tight and then tighter, again. My legs stiffened into tree trunks and my feet grew roots holding us perfectly still. Like a super sense, I used my perifreal vision to access and predicted any notion of movment, countering with forcfull precision. Internally I felt terrified for her and intrepidly prevented Kari from becoming a parapalegic because of a slight nudge or twitch.

Just as Kari’s contraction ended, the anastesiologist finished inserting a needle into her spine and asked that she lay back on the bed. Moments later, one of the countless nurses requested I take a breather and step away from Kari’s bedside. Without question, I stepped back five feet to gather my wits. Withdrawn from the situation, I began to feel tingles run thoughout my body. Apparently the nurse noticed I began to hyperventalate and if she hadn’t acted, I’d now lay unconscience on the floor. Moments later, I felt recorvered. I proceeded to scan the room noticing 5 nurses, Kari laying on the bed, and several carts scattered about.Then Doctor Sally entered the room and I instantly walk back to Kari’s bed side.

Doctor Sally exclaims, “I got the page, your having a baby!” At this point Kari had begun to feel relief from the epidural. She replied, “Ya hopfully all goes well. We scheduled a cesarian operation for next Tuesday because I’m high risk. He came early.” Doctor Sally replied, “If you like we can perform the operation. But your recovery time will be much longer. What would you like to do?” Kari replied, “Lets try vaginally.”

Situated at my perch, I notice a nurse preventing someone from entering the room. Curuously I watched as she spoke to whomever opened our door. The nurse turned, looked at me mouthing, “Its your parents.” I replied, “Please ask them to wait outside, I’ll be with them shortly.” While this familial distraction took place Doctor Sally spoke privately to her staff. Finally had a chance to look in Kari’s eyes, without distraction. I expressed my love for her corressed her hand for a minute or two while the nursing staff transformed our room into a birthing center.

After the transformation, our hospitable room appeard adiquitly suited for our situation. Near the enterance, that piculiar contraption now glowed in a halo of heating lamps. Below the halo of light, a platform firmly sat adorned with soft blankets. Next to the contraption, semingly gaurding our door,  three nurses stood at attention attuned to every movement. Above the bed long extendable surgical lamp fixtures reached from a hidding spot far up in the ceiling, shinning on their intended targets. Nurses traversed the beds perimiter moving from cart to cart, like a swarm of bees, prepairing insterments and syrums necessary for labor. In the center of this commotion the labor bed sat, now projecting birthing sturips from it’s base.

Accustumed to the commotion Doctor Sally asks Kari, “Can you place your heals in these sturips? If not we can help you.” Complicently, Kari lifts her legs placing them in the sturips juting from the base of her bed. Doctor Sally warns, “Now I’m going to fold part of the bed out from under you, don’t be alarmed.” Kari shakes her head acknowledging her statement. Quickly almost half the bed folds perpendicular cutting it’s surface area nearly in half. Doctor Sally asks, “How are you feeling?” Kari replies, “Much better now that I had the epadural.” Sarcastically she continues and intending the nurses to over hear, “Man I wish I had this an hour ago when I was five centemeters.”

Unaware of prior events Doctor Sally asks a nearby nurse to roll a mirror into place, inorder for Kari to witness our son’s birth. With the mirror adjusted and in place Doctor Sally stated, “Kari I want you to push with each contraction. Make sure you beardown.” For the next ten minutes Kari pushed but seemingly became more  and more distracted mid effort. Knowing Kari’s twisted nurse thought process. I remark, “Stop watching yourself push and focus on pushing.” Kari turns her head towards me and giggles in a sick perverted way only another nurse could truly appreciate, replying, “But it’s so interesting.” I exclaimed, “Push!” Meanwhile, apparently Doctor Sally understood all to well Kari’s enticment toward biological functions because she quickly exclaimed, after my “Push” remark, “If you don’t start pushing I will remove the mirror.” Immediately Kari began to push but again she tappered off mid effort to examine the effects. Doctor Sally projected loudly, “Please remove the mirror.” Suddenly a nurse removed the mirrior stowing it in a nearby corner. Doctor Sally exlaimed, “I need you to focus and push!” Over the next ten minutes Kari pushed well with every contraction. Perched next to her bedside I began to see an odd shape emerge from her vagina.

      Inside Kari’s vagina emerged a white bananna shaped pail protusion. Immediately I thought, “OHH MY GOD SOMETHING IS WRONG! How could that be my son’s head. It looks flatteneed like a pancake!” Patiently I waited while Kari pushed. With every grunt another centemeter protruded from Kari. Soon I realized what I saw as a pail bannana shaped object was mearly my son’s scalp folding under the preasure. Soon I saw a pale cranium emerging from Kari’s vagina. Moments later I noted his cranial protrution slowed and I glanced up, unaware of what had transpired  since my son began to enter this world. I recall Doctor Sally dramatically exclaiming, “Kari you have to push NOW! THE BABY IS IN DISTRESS!  PUSH LIKE YOU MEAN IT!!!”  I truned to Kari screaming, “PUSH…PUSH…PUSH… DON’T YOU STOP!!!”

Suddenly, his head slipped out of Kari. As he arrived, facing upwords towards both Doctor Sally and me, he cried. Doctor Sally held his head level exclaiming, “VACUME!” Suddenly a nearby nurse on standby, prepaired for theis very directive, injected tubes into his mouth and nasil passages sucking mucus from his lungs. Doctor Sally peared up at Kari and exclaimed, “One last final push!” Kari push with all her might forcing my son’s body to slip out of her.

As Doctor Sally handed our son off to nearby nurses I couldn’t help but notice his purple color. I thought, “He looks is the color of a grape!” Immmediatly I worried but was drawn back to Kari as Doctor Sally assessed her vaginal tears. I couldn’t help but notice that Kari was vaginally shreaded. Doctor Sally fingered Kari’s tares while asking, “Would you like a husband’s stitch?” Kari replied, “Sure.”

Confident Kari was in the best hands I circled the bed while dodging nurses and made my way to our grape of a son. Immediately I noticed his color had returned to a pale flesh color. Calmly I stepped outside to thank my parents for an immediate response. Just as I exited the room and entered the hallway, greating my parents, a nurse slipped around from my behind exclaiming, “ARE YOU THE FATHER?” I quickly replied, “Yes.” She pushed my son into my arms yelling, “FOLLOW ME, QUICKLY!” My mind raced as we jogged down the hall to the neonatal unit. I thought, “What could be wrong?” I acted dilligently and kept the hospital staff on pace with our birth… WHAT COULD BE WRONG!” As we entered the neonatal unit the nurse I shadowed so diligently, snatched my son from my arms placing him under another heat lamp then placing an oxygen mask on his face. I exclaimed, “WHATS WRONG! WHAT’S GOING ON!” The nurse replied, “Nothing we just administer oxygen when I child pauses half way through the caginal cannal because fluid can stay in their lungs. Eventually she hands my son to me. We weighed him at 7.01oz and travel back to the labor room. As I enter, I notice my parents joined Kari whome now lays peacfully in her labor bed. Gently I pass our son “Dresden Micheal Adams” to Kari exclaiming over my shoulder,”Thank you mom and dad for the basinet. It has been waiting patiently for Dresden’s arrival.”                       

           Its 2am, my wife and I are nestled comfortably side-by-side in our queen size bed, which is perfectly centered, along the tallest wall in our master bedroom. Above us, a ceiling fan gently whorls. Next to it, a skylight pours moonlight onto the foot of the bed where our two cats lay intertwined, basking in the moonlight, like a pair of kindred lovers. In the corner, pillows and blankets smother an empty white basinet waiting patiently for our new son.       

Suddenly, I felt a nudge on my right shoulder, then my wife’s voice, “he keeps kicking me…jeesh”. She reaches across the bed, grabs my left hand, and gently lays my palm atop her pregnant belly. Moments later, I feel her entire stomach clamp down as if to hug our unborn son. For the next fifteen seconds, I could feel the definition of my son’s body through my wife’s abdomen. My wife asked, “Did you feel that? He is really moving.” Curiously I thought to myself “It seemed like your belly moved, not our son.” I found it odd my wife couldn’t tell the difference but I held my tongue because she’s a nurse and probably knows better than me. I immediately checked the time on my watch, and then placed my hand back on her belly. I asked her “how long has he been moving?” She replied, “About two hours now, I didn’t want to wake you”. After some time passed, I felt it again. But this time I was certain, her belly moved, not our son. I subtly drew my hand away from her stomach and peered into my watch, carefully counting the minutes that past between these “movements”. I counted to myself “One, Two Three, Four, and Five… Five minutes!” Instantly, our obstetrician’s words reverberated throughout my thoughts “There is plenty of time to get to the hospital, so don’t freak out. Take your time, be supportive and drive carefully. Remember most deliveries take 12 hours and driving is the most dangerous part of the delivery.” 

Calmly I look over at my wife and said, “I don’t know love, and I think it’s your belly moving, not our son…” She replies, “No, it’s him moving, I’m sure of it.” Respectfully I accepted her response, and laid my palm on her belly again.  Patiently I waited, until again I could feel the silhouette of my son through her abdomen. I said, “Is he moving now?” She replied, “Ya.” I glance at my watch and thought, “Five minutes again”. I said, “Love, this is happening every five minutes. You’re having labor contractions.” She replied, “Are you sure?” I said, “Well every time you thought he was moving, he wasn’t. It was your stomach contracting.” 

I hopped out of bed and flicked on the lights. She says, “I’m not sure these are contractions. Let’s call the clinic’s emergency line and see what they say”. She grabbed the phone, dials the number to our obstetrician’s after hour’s service, and gets an answering machine. She calmly gave our information, requested a quick return phone call and hung up. After the phone call she said, “I’m going to soak in the bath till they call back. Maybe it will calm down”.  Meanwhile, I dressed, gathered the suitcase we already had prepared and hauled it down stairs, placing it by the front door.

The phone began to ring. Hastily I darted to the stairs and jogged up them skipping every other. My wife answered the phone, “Hello.” I sat quietly next to the bathtub, but could only hear the murmur of a woman’s voice. My wife informed her of what had transpired and paused for a response. During that pause my ears transformed into that of a K-9 because I heard every word said to my wife. “Those are contractions; you need to check into the hospital. I will notify your doctor and she will meet you there.” My wife relied “Okay, we are on our way.” Like a typical over sized penguin my wife waddled down the stairs. We both threw on our jackets and out the door we went.  

After getting her situated in our car, my wife’s labor pains began. Suddenly, all the pregnancy TV shows we watched, in preparation, flashed through my mind. One in particular stood out and became my mind’s focus. I recalled watching a woman give birth in the back seat of a car while her husband drove to the hospital. That mental image sent a shock to my stomach, causing it to wrench sideways. I thought to myself” I CAN’T LET THAT HAPPEN!” and quickly ran around the car got in and started the car. All I wanted to do was drive like a bat out of hell, but instantly our doctor’s message “drive safely” brushed aside my worries and kept my impulses at bay. As we drove, each pot hole sent whimpers bellowing from my wife’s mouth. I now had a new nemesis and something to focus my attention on. With hawk eyes I scanned the road, targeting pot holes which I swerved around with as much elegance as an ice skating champion. With each road defect and every corner I imagined a top heavy coffee cup sitting ominously atop the dashboard.

When we arrived at Rose Medical Center I pulled into the emergency room parking lot. After aligning the car into a parking space we noticed a sign that read “Emergency Vehicles only”. Peering around at the other parking spots, we noticed all the parking spaces presented this identical signage. Quickly I pulled out of the parking lot and parked in front of the emergency entrance. An orderly strolled up to the car and informed us we could not park there. I relied “My Wife is in labor! I’ll come back and move it in a few minutes”. He replied “It will get towed if you do so”. I turned to my wife and instructed her to go into the hospital while I park the car. After watching her enter the hospital, I then parked the car one block away and jogged to the hospital

As I entered I noticed my wife sitting at a registration cubical. I urgently addressed the hospital employee sitting at the cubical, “We preregistered. Why isn’t she headed up stairs?” My wife looked up, while grimacing from a contraction and replying, “They have more paperwork for us.” I clenched my teeth and sat down politely. After about ten minutes, we were finished. Apparently they had some mix up and we had to fill out all of our forms again. The lady pointed to the elevator and said, “please go to the third floor.” Holding my wife’s hand because no wheelchair was made available, we made our way to the elevator stopping several times to manage her contractions. As we stepped of the elevator and into the hall a nurse’s station far off in the distance beckoned us. Slowly, we made our way to the nurses’ station at which point we were assigned a labor room were my wife laid down to rest. 

My complaint comes from the fact that we both work full time but he gets to relax more than I do. We do spend every evening relaxing for at least an hour. This is a time when we can sit and enjoy each other’s company.  Perhaps I should make more time to relax and enjoy my time the only problem is that our house would become a pig sty and I would lose my mind.  Is it that men have such low standards? Is it because he knows I will clean so he is taking advantage? Is his only focus entertainment?

I believe the reason for this is, most men are visually driven and more easily focus on one thing at a time. He argues that he does a lot around the house and that he needs time to relax or he will lose his mind. He also claims that he has hobbies and needs time to enjoy them. He has told me to pick up some hobbies but I have no interest. I would rather spend my time with him, doing whatever enjoying each other’s company. Because of all this I have developed a new strategy to get him to help around the house. I am refusing to clean and when it gets too messy for him he will help out. While he cleans I will sit back and relax. After words I will ask him how he enjoyed cleaning the entire house.     

Suddenly, I felt a nudge to my right shoulder and then my wife’s voice, “he keeps kicking me…jeesh”. She reaches across the bed, grabs my left hand, and gently lays my palm atop her pregnant belly. Moments later, I feel her entire stomach clamp down as if to hug our unborn son. For the next fifteen seconds, I could feel the definition of my son’s body through my wife’s abdomen. My wife asked, “Did you feel that? He is really moving.” Curiously I thought to my self “It seemed like your belly moved, not our son.” I found it odd my wife couldn’t tell the difference but I held my tongue because as a nurse, she probably knows better than me. I immediately checked the time on my watch, and then placed my hand back on her belly. I asked her “how long has he been moving?” She replied, “About two hours now, but I didn’t want to wake you”. After some time passed, I felt it again. But this time I became certain, her belly moved, not our son. I subtly drew my hand away from her stomach and peered into my watch, carefully counting the minutes that past between these “movements”. I counted to myself “One, Two Three, Four, and Five… Five minutes!” Instantly, our obstetrician’s words reverberated throughout my thoughts “There is plenty of time to get to the hospital, so don’t freak out. Take your time, be supportive and drive carefully. Remember most deliveries take 12 hours.”

Calmly I look over at my wife and said, “I don’t know love, and I think it’s your belly moving, not our son…” She replies, “No, it’s him moving, I’m sure of it.” Respectfully I accepted her response, and laid my palm on her belly again.  Patiently I waited, until again I could feel the silhouette of my son through her belly. I said, “Is he moving now?” She replied, “Ya.” I glance at my watch and thought, “Five minutes again”. I said,”Love, this is happening every five minutes. You’re having labor contractions.” She replied, “Are you sure?” I said, “Well every time you thought he was moving, he wasn’t. It was your stomach contracting.” 

I hopped out of bed and flicked on the lights. She says, “I’m not sure these are contractions. Let’s call the clinic’s emergency line and see what they say”. She grabbed the phone, dials the number to our obstetrician’s after hour’s service, and gets the answering machine. She calmly left our information, requested a quick return phone call and hung up. After the phone call she said, “I’m going to soak in the bath till they call back. Maybe it will calm down”.  Meanwhile, I dressed, gathered the suitcase we already had prepared and hauled it down stairs, placing it by the front door.

The phone began to ring. Hastily I darted to the stairs and jogged up them skipping every other. My wife answered the phone, “Hello.” I sat quietly next to the bathtub, but could only hear the murmur of a woman’s voice. My wife informed her of what had transpired and paused for a response. During that pause my ears transformed into that of a K-9 because I heard every word said to my wife. “Those are contractions; you need to check into the hospital. I will notify your doctor and she will meet you there.”