Midnight is a good time for sleeping. It is a good time for the lights to be out and everyone to be tucked securely into a snug cocoon of warmth, the mind occupying itself only with the business of oblivion.
Of course, that was not to be my lot in life on this night.
Cheryl and I had been home from the hospital for all of twelve hours, and I had been asleep for a fraction of that, when Cheryl decided she could hold out no longer. “Back into the breech, my dear husband!” So it was that we found ourselves repeating the events of the night prior. By coincidence, the hospital assigned us to the same room, thereby completing my sense of deja vu all over again.
Two key differences separated last night’s experience: we had packed Cheryl’s stuff ahead of time, and I remembered to bring my trusty PowerBook. This morning, as we await Adam or Sarah’s first appearance in this world, we are enjoying epidurals and portable computing.