Blue 16! Blue 16! Hut, hut, hut...

If only it were that easy...

At absolutely any moment as I write this, Mrs. Tony C could go into labor and bring our brand spanking new little girl into the world. I mean no disrespect to her specifically or the female gender as a whole by the picture either. It's just what we guys understand and relate to more easily than the true process of child birth.

Unless you happen to be a male MD of OB/GYN...

I'm still not clear what all those letters stand for and where they relate and apply in the whole process. But then again, it's been said ignorance is bliss.

Having personally witnessed the whole birthing process before, I just don't see how anyone couldn't believe in God. A single sperm and a single egg meet and from that union comes a fully autonomous living being...well...eventually. That happened due to a random sequence of cosmic events? That kind of ignorance is far from blissful. But I digress...

Let's stay on the subject of male, non-medically educated ignorance of the child birth process shall we. This is my third rodeo (okay, bad analogy), and I no more comprehend the mechanics of birth outside of rudimentary biology than the next guy. Come on guys! Admit it...we're ignorant! Know how I know? I walk into the OB/GYN exam room with my wife and see one of these...

That's right...you don't have a clue either dude. Know how else I know? Because my ignorance made me so insecure, I immediately laughed out loud, snapped a picture on my BlackBerry and shared it with other ignorant male friends just like you. Case closed... D-U-M-B.

Being at the OB/GYN office with Mrs. Tony C is akin to taking your dog to church services on Sunday morning. He's glad to be there, knows something cool is going on around him (in most churches anyway), but has no clue what it's all about. That's me in a nutshell when I go to her appointments... and yes, I'm the dog!

Sure, I always find sophisticated, ahem, ways to ease into conversations with the other pregnant people or staff attending to them, but I'm not truly at least a little at ease until I see another expecting dad and make eye contact. You can smell the fear. The kind of temporary kinship I'm sure comes across a couple of guys looking at each other knowing a mortar shell is about to drop on them the very next breath. Not sympathy, not pity...but absolute empathy.

At least my days of enduring those visits are quickly drawing to a close. Unfortunately, the graduation ceremony takes place in a room filled with busy people. Each has a specific task or duty to perform to ensure a new life is brought forth into this world under the best medically possible circumstances.

Then there's me...

Bucket of ice chips. Cold washcloth. Digital camera. Thick skin. Cap and gown. Ready to graduate.

All I can say is God bless the people in the room who know what they're doing. I've got a completely different thought for the first guy who agreed to do the whole thing in a bathtub while he was in the water during the delivery too. D-U-M-B. What were you thinking brother? D-U-M-B. If you happen to be reading this and are planning on one of those water/bathtub births and we see each other at the OB/GYN office...don't be offended when I look away. It's one thing for the mortar shell to fall on you from a different position and a completely other when you fire a mortar round straight up in the air perpendicularly...D-U-M-B.

Wish me luck beloved readers! I'm going to need it...