Maybe Sigourney Weaver Would Help

Caroline and Alli, as seen waiting for Go Dot.

I feel guilty because I can tell that more and more of you are stopping by each and every day, very likely with the specific intent of finding out whether or not Grand Finale has begun his reign of planet Earth. And, well, he hasn’t. Which means each time you stop by, instead of some joyous birth announcement, all you’re getting are various snippets of mindless conversations which feature subjects as asinine as Rambo’s bandana, the Bang-Bang train and nipple stimulation as it pertains to NASCAR — all while we wait for the little fellow who’s starting to feel as if he might not ever get here.

But we know that he will, indeed, eventually arrive. And to that end, earlier today, a good friend of mine told me that she hoped Caroline and I were savoring every last moment of this pregnancy. And, well, I’m sorry to say that such is definitely not the case. But I think that’s only because of the extreme nature of this pregnancy. I’ve said it many times before, but it bears repeating: this pregnancy has proven to be much more difficult than even the triplet pregnancy, if for no other reason than the wee threesome which the triplet pregnancy successfully produced. Because it’s been tough for Caroline to enjoy being with child at age 41 (she turns 42 on July 25) in the dead heat of summer while tending to four kids, three of whom often climb on her as if she were a knocked-up jungle gym.

So no. She’s not savoring this one, but is instead really ready to get the show on the road. Me? I’m not sure I even know how to savor a pregnancy, given that I’m not pregnant. Not to mention the fact that I’ve never been one to go all ga-ga over a pregnancy a la singing lullabies to the embryo inside my wife’s expanding belly. Hell, I’m not even into putting my hand on her stomach when Grand Finale’s moving. For some reason (likely because I’m a squeamish wuss), it conjures up images of that scene from that Sigourney Weaver movie, Aliens (I think it was Aliens) when that horrifying entity pops out of that dude’s stomach.

Sigourney. What kind of name is that, anyway? Sounds more like a verb than a name, no? Which reminds me of this totally juvenile game I made up in college that my jackass friends and I used to play where we’d try to use a famous person’s first name as a verb and their last name as a direct object. And the best one I ever came up with was I’d like to Dick her Van Patten.

But I digress. Because the only game we’re playing now is the waiting game. Yesterday, a woman in my office asked me what the rush was. “I mean, if I were y’all, I wouldn’t be in any hurry whatsoever. After all, once Grand Finale gets here, things are really going to get tough.”

I suppose. I mean, I know it’ll be tough on the ice cream industry. Lord knows they’ll never be able to recoup all the lost revenue once Caroline’s nightly benders mercifully draw to a close. And I know it’ll be tough on us, too. Four months has always been our rule of thumb, as those first four months, by our estimation, are the most difficult.

But one reason why we want him to hurry up and get here is because of the inevitability of those four months. I mean, they’re gonna be tough, so we just as soon start the clock right now, thank you very much. Besides, we’re not scared of the difficulty because, this just in, we’ve (somewhat) successfully weathered the first three (nearly four) years of the triplets’ lives, and they’ve been anything but a piece of cake.

But the real reason we’re in a hurry? We so desperately want to start loving Grand Finale. Check that. We so desperately want to continue loving him. Only we’re ready for him to be sitting smack-dab in the middle of all our wonderful chaos while we’re doing just that.

If only that doctor would just Sigourney Caroline’s Weaver already and deliver that little guy to us.

Note: Thanks to Alan for his comment about what really happened in Aliens. I corrected my original version which had the alien popping out of Sigourney’s stomach.

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About john cave osborne

John Cave Osborne is a writer whose work has appeared on such sites as DisneyBaby, Babble, YahooShine, TLC and the Huffington Post. He was also referenced by Jezebel one time, but he’s pretty sure they were making fun of him. He and his wife, Caroline, live with their five children and spastic dog in Knoxville, TN. Nothing annoys him more than joke-heavy bios written in the third person, with the possible exception of Corey Feldman.

  • Alan Kercinik

    I can totally relate to this. Not the triplets thing. My boys are not that potent to have created three for the price of one. 

    No, the difference in feeling of a pregnancy of the first. My wife is due at the end of September and I swear, we sometimes forget she’s pregnant. Well, she doesn’t. And I don’t either. Not really. It’s just that this one isn’t as all consuming as the first one was.

    All the same. Can’t wait to meet the little dude. Hang in and thanks for sharing.

    And the alien burst out of John Hurt’s chest in Alien. You can get your guy card revoked for this kind of thing,.

    • John Cave Osborne

      oooh. thanks for the Aliens correction. i made the appropriate change.

      but to your main point, it’s only natural, at least IMO, to experience different pregnancies differently. we, too, sometimes forget that C is pregnant. though, like you, it’s not like we really forget. it’s just that it’s not constantly on our mind like her pregnancy w/ Alli or with the triplets for that matter.

      GL to y’all w/ the third trimester! very awesome and great to hear from you, alan.

      • Patrick (yeah, that one)

        Well, not that it matters, but at the end of Alien 3 Ellen Ripley’s (Sigourney Weaver’s character) dying act is to grab the chestburster that has just started to emerge out of her ribcage and then fall into molten iron to make sure she kills the alien too.  So, technically, you were right.  And I still resent the life I wasted watching that craptastic movie.

        Hopefully G.F.O. will get here soon.  Course, if he waits til Friday, then he’ll have the same birthday as my niece, which might amuse my sister. :-) 

        • John Cave Osborne

          DUDE. i was pretty sure that the creature came from her. at least from some point. though, i obviously didn’t know it was Alien 3 (nor did i even know there was an Alien 3 for that matter…)

          • Patrick (yeah, that one)

            And I saved you the misery of watching that movie as well, cos you’ve never been inebriated enough to enjoy that experience.  You’re welcome. :-)

  • Annette

    Methinks Caroline’s uterus is saying, “What? Is this all you got for me? We can do way more than this!”

    • John Cave Osborne

      @Annette — today’s the day!

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  • Seattledad

    If he emerges in one of those mechanical body contraptions, that would be extra cool.  And be sure to snap a shot of it for the blog.