10 Days Early Well, I can honestly say that when a baby wants to come, that baby is going to come.

I know because my 2nd son, Nicholas James McTighe, entered our world and our lives 10 days early (hence the title above) at 12:42 a.m. on Tuesday, December 21.

I'm not kidding, it was a whirlwind. It breaks down like this:

MONDAY 12/20
8:17 p.m
My wife gets home from water aerobics (that's right, water aerobics at 9+ months prego) and tells me that "Something might be going on down there."
"Pah," I say.

8:30 p.m.
She decides to call the doctor. She says she's feeling some "pressure."
"Double-pah," but this time, I think it.

8:40 p.m.
She tells me that she's having contractions and that she's going to pack her things.
"Hmmm," I ponder. "This might be the real deal. But certainly not, I mean we're 10 days early."

9:30 p.m.
After a series of contractions that are separated by the thin veneer of just 5 minutes, she decides to call her girlfriend to ask her to come over and watch our other boy while we go deliver the baby.
Finally realizing she's serious, I jump on board.

9:45 p.m.
We head to the hospital.

10:15 p.m.
In the hospital her doctor utters this simplistic phrase: "Yep, the baby's coming." Hey, I didn't need a medical degree to sort that one out. "Thanks Doc, here's a check for eleventy-billion dollars!"

10:15 - 12:00 a.m.
Things progress just as they should. At the stroke of midnight, Sarah starts pushing.

12:42 a.m.
Nick is born.

A miracle wrapped in a miracle wrapped in a miracle, people. Seriously.

Walt Whitman wrote that "a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels."

Man, he should've seen a baby.

Happy holidays.  ¶ 2:34 PM