kissThere’s something about becoming a father, even the second time around, that cleaves reality away temporarily. And that’s where I am today. It’s the middle of what should be a busy work week and it just doesn’t matter. I’m missing lectures and practicals and tutorials and it’s all OK. Because all that matters right now is the little addition to our slightly larger family.

Which is all really just to say that this is going to be a slightly disjointed post.

Dr. O’C did brilliantly. I’ll leave her the opportunity to tell you as much (or as little) as she wants on her own. But I’ve got to brag a little bit. Ginny put it best, she was a freakin’ warrior. Harry is not a small baby. In fact, our midwife said she’d ‘never seen a bigger head’. I’ve never been more impressed with Dr. O’C, a damn impressive woman.

Speaking of midwives, and I am not going to go on a health care rant, both of my sons have now been delivered by midwives in public hospitals in countries with single payer health insurance. I wouldn’t do it any other way. My heartfelt thanks to the midwives of Flinders Medical Center. Doctors are great and all, but when it comes to birthing babies, midwives help people out.

A Free Fetus is now officially Harry. But that’s the last we’ll speak of it. To maintain a semblance of anonymity we’re going to have to come up with an internet pseudonym. This is turning out to be a slightly more difficult task than coming up with his Christian name. I’ve gotten several good suggestions, but I still like the name Max. So, on the advice of my attorneys, I think we’ll go with Not Max for Harry’s internet name.

zachchrisharryHe’s just over 24 hours old, so I can’t say much about his personality yet. He sleeps a lot and cries when he’s not sleeping. Much like his mother. (Ho, yeah! Of course, it’s easy to make jokes that will get me in trouble when I know she can’t read the blog right now). He looks almost identical to Boy Z when he was born – but he’s bigger. In every way. He hulks over the other newborns in the ward. I’m sure that this must say something about my masculinity, but I’m not sure what. And he’s got these incredibly long fingers and toes. I’m thinking concert pianist or Olympic swimmer.

Boy Z, at least in these early days, adores his little brother. He’s been gentle, kind and empathetic, sharing his toys and giving him kisses. When not at the hospital he runs around the house talking about ‘Harry’ this and ‘Harry’ that. I fully expect all of this to change after the novelty wears off, but for the time being we’re like a damn Disney cartoon.

One piece of old business. I made it reasonably clear that I wanted a girl. I really did. But from the instant I saw the defining bit of anatomy (penis, the Noble Savage says I have to call it a penis) there was no disappointment. Not a bit of sadness. I’ve come to love having a son and two is going to be twice as fun. Plus, I think same sex siblings will get along better in the long run. And, perhaps best of all, we now outnumber Dr. O’C 3-1 (4-1 if you count the dog) which bodes well for future ‘democratic’ decisions.

In other old business, Ginny is the winner of the baby pool. She had the day and sex right, which is about as close as I expected anybody to get. Well done, Ginny.

Dr. O’C will likely be coming home later today and once we settle into a semblance of a routine, we’ll return to regular programming here at A Free Man. But for the time being, I’m going to revel in this temporary disassociation from reality. It is not likely to last long.

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