On Wednesday we talked about pregnancy phase I (I’ll never eat again).  Thursday was phase II (life is back to normal or baby, what baby?).

Today is the third and final phase…Phase III – Oh my God, we’re having a baby!

You know when you’re on a roller coaster and you hit the first really tall slope. The roller coaster slows a little, building up momentum to go over the top. You have a false sense of security right at the peak of the slope (that’s phase II). Phase III is the moment you go over the top. Your stomach is in your throat. You’re being jerked around by forces of nature beyond your control. You and everyone around you are screaming like banshees.

Yep. We’re going to have a baby.

For your wife, the nesting instinct hits hard. Suddenly, the concept of having a nursery moves to actually painting the room, installing the carpet, and putting the crib together. (I tried to tell my wife that if Baby Jesus could be born in a manger without the benefit of Pottery Barn bedding, did our child really need something more complicated. I mean, it was Baby Jesus for goodness sakes.) As you might imagine, such logic fell on deaf ears.

Then it’s the child birth classes. Let me make sure I get this straight. We have good health care insurance. There will be a doctor and a nurse in the delivery room (and more on call if we need them). Modern medical technology will be attached to mom and baby. What are we going to learn in a childbirth class that the pros won’t already know? Never mind making the argument…you’re taking a child birth class.

And try to look interested.

You’ll also take the obligatory hospital tour and plan your route to the hospital. (Word to the wise…yes, I know the route to the hospital when you wife goes into labor is EXACTLY the same route you would take on any other occasion. But for some reason, you will make several practice runs just to get the timing down right. No need to argue. Just do it.)

By the end of phase III bad things start to happen. First of all, your wife is very pregnant.

Which makes it hard for her to breath, eat, walk or sleep. Everything makes her miserable. And I mean everything. She’ll hate the sound of Diane Sawyer’s voice on the evening news. She’ll hate the bed she (note, I said she) is sleeping in. She’ll hate the fact that she still hasn’t found the right nursing bra. And most of all, she’ll hate the sight of you. Somehow, during these waning weeks, dads are the only ones responsible for the pending birth. (Funny, that’s not how I remember it.)

And you will be in a state of panic. You’ve never changed a diaper. You have no idea how you will live without sleep. You wonder how you will pay for college. And the thought of using a rectal thermometer…no thanks!

It will be a regular Molotov cocktail in your house. A very pregnant wife who can’t sleep, breath, eat or sleep. And a panic stricken dad that has no idea what he’s in for.

But then the roller coaster stops. The baby is born. You laugh about the fun parts of the ride and try to forget the scary parts.

You’ve actually got a little bit of energy — the kind of energy that comes from conquering a fear or accomplishing something great.

Hold on to that energy my friend…you’re going to need it. Because the next 12 months make the last nine look like child’s play.

Yesterday, we talked about the first phase of pregnancy (the I’ll never eat again phase).  Today, I present…

Phase II – Life is back to normal (or Baby, what baby?)

After what seems like 90 years, the nausea subsides and your wife begins to take on the modest glow of pregnancy. She really will. In this phase, you’re eating again. The due date still seems far away and you can talk about the baby’s arrival more as a concept than a reality.

You start thinking about baby names and colors for the nursery. You’re able to find out the sex of the baby and your imagination will run wild about raising a son (I’ll coach his little league team) or a daughter (she won’t date until she’s 30). Baby gifts will begin to arrive and you’ll see implements that you don’t know how to use now and will never know how to use.

Your wife begins to show a little and breaks out the first of her maternity clothes. But she’s not miserable and you can still share a bed. (Enjoy this while it lasts.)

If you didn’t know any better, you would think this baby thing is pretty easy.

Just wait.

…stay tuned for Part III on Friday…

Last week, I got calls from two buddies telling me their wives were pregnant.

They had the normal mix of elation and fear in their voices.  While I offered congratulations, I also told them  that if their marriages can survive the gestation period, they can survive anything.

As expected, their wives had already purchased every book imaginable about pregnancy, prenatal development, healthy eating habits, etc.  But the dads-to-be are still flying blind.

And so, Greg, Ashton and all new dads out there, consider this the crash course in pregnancy.

Pregnancy has three phases:

1. it begins with the “I’ll never eat again” phase;

2. then moves to the rather blissful “life is back to normal” phase (also known as the “baby, what baby?” phase);

3. and then ends with the “oh my God, we’re having a baby!” phase (NOTE: the exclamation point denotes fear, trepidation, chaos, panic, and a frantic pace…it does not denote excitement…particularly for dads)

Phase I – I’ll never eat again

In the modern household, the news of a pregnancy arrives after your wife pees on a stick and the color changes. After the obligatory hugs, kisses, expressions of great joy and calls to the family, your wife will likely puke in the toilet.

Get used to it pal…because this is your life for about 90 days. Your wife will be continually nauseous. She will eat little else besides saltine crackers and peppermints. Food smells make her sick, which means no dinner for her…or you. You are on your own. (In retrospect, this is actually great practice for the baby’s arrival – your wife’s full-time focus becomes feeding, burping, changing and rocking the baby. We dads may have been important at inception, but post-partum, we become part of the furniture.)

It is during this phase that you wonder when or if life will ever return to normal. You will try to be sympathetic and express genuine concern. However, such emotion will be difficult when you are starving to death.

One night, driving home from work, you will think to yourself…”I know what I’ll do. I’ll be a caring husband and pick up dinner for me and my wife.”

What a sweet thought. A really nice gesture. That’s when you walk in with a nice chicken parmigiano from the Italian place down the street. You walk in, she gets a whiff and boom…back to the toilet.

Now here’s a question for Miss Manners…is it polite to eat your wife’s dinner while she’s puking her guts out? My heart says no, but my stomach says yes.

Come on Miss Manners, I’m hungry!

…tune in Thursday for Phase II…