She's Right

My wife and I have a running argument that I think most parents will recognize. Her proposition: men are just not tough enough to bear children.

My response: the two genders have different roles to play so I don't accept the premise. It isn't necessary for men to be 'tough enough' to deliver babies, because our biology prohibits the need. We just don't have to do it, so the argument is nonsense.

But, I always hasten to add, we could do it if we had to. After all, we smash our fingers under the hoods of cars, suffer the searing agony of ripping athletic tape off our hairy legs, and survive crushing blows from large middle linebackers.

Now, I love to argue just for the fun of the argument - and for the mental exercise. But if I'm honest, she's right.

For the better part of 34 weeks, my wife took handfuls of medicine, vomited almost everything she ate, reorganized our bed 10 times a night in failed efforts to get comfortable enough to sleep, turned the heat up, turned the heat down, rocked at least three times to get enough momentum to get herself off the couch, and - wait for it - gave herself shots in her hips.

Oh, and she continued to work (albeit from a laptop on our couch) and take care of our daughters. In fact, the day she was to be admitted to the hospital she refused - she had to get back to Cheyenne to attend Madeline's preschool graduation party. She simply told the doctor she'd be back to check in later that week.

I'm bed-bound for at least a day when I start to feel a headache coming on.

Now, I suspect most politically savvy husbands who publish blogs about their families post at least one item about how wonderful their wives are. But I'm not kidding. The only differences between my wife pre-triplets and post-triplets are that she no longer gives herself shots, and she now takes care of six children rather than three. Oh, and she is doing it on less sleep.

I've always thought my wife was the perfect role model for our daughters. She is smart, bold, and accomplished. I'm certain that she will be the perfect role model for our sons as well. Strong, committed, and compassionate.

So please know, my dear Tina, that I see the exhaustion in your eyes. I appreciate your patience in soothing our boys through the night - and letting me sleep. I appreciate your boundless - if depleted - energy in caring for our daughters at the same time.

I admit it: I'm not tough enough.

You may never fully know how much I appreciate you.