To The Pointwith Boris Bozic
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9 Comments Oh Boy! – A Personal Account

Article written by on the 31 May 2012 in Family,Personal

The nurses at the hospital have dubbed baby Owen, Bubba.   Trust me, that’s going to stick
 

And what a boy he is.  Rachelle Gregory-Marshall, an extraordinary woman, gave birth this week to a special baby boy.  I know most parents and family members think their newborn is special and different from the rest; some new parents act like their newborn is the chosen one, carrying on as if it’s the first to ever be born.   It happens 133 million times a year, which works out to 247 births a minute worldwide.  By the time you finish reading this blog, another child has entered the world wondering, where the hell am I?  But of those 133 million yearly births, a few are different – like Rachelle and the father, Ian’s, who’s primary responsibility is now to not say or do anything stupid, baby boy.  Look, I’m not biased because they’re family.  You want proof this child is different?  Baby Owen came into the world weighing in at 10 ½ pounds!

Let me kill the suspense for you, it was cesarean section.  Funny how a double digit number, like 10 ½ pounds, makes a mother to be say “cut me open and pull him out”.  That’s totally understandable. Yet, the natural delivery of an eight or nine pound baby is considered okay and normal.  You know who considers it okay and normal?  Men!  If men had to push an eight or nine pound baby out, civilization would have ceased to exist thousands of years ago.  We’re just not tough enough to endure something like that.  The father’s job throughout the delivery is to be the coach and offer words of encouragement like, “I’m here for you…remember to breath…I agree I’m an &%@hole and this is all my fault.”

But once the baby arrives, all is forgotten; the focus is now on the baby.  The parents stare lovingly at their baby and say, “Jesus Christ, he’s 10 ½ pounds”.   The first crisis these new parents faced was the realization the newborn clothes they purchased didn’t fit.  Not to worry, that’s where I helped.  On my first visit to the hospital I brought one of my old suits with me.  I think baby Owen is about a 28 waist, so we’ll have put a few extra holes in his belt.  Baby seat?  Nah, just place him in the back seat and put the regular seatbelt on him. Owen’s parents may want to put a pillow under his bum so he can see clearly out the window.  This boy is big.  You know he’s big when the head nurse wheels Rachelle into the nursery for the first time and says to the staff, “Hey everyone, this is Bubba’s mom”.  The nurses at the hospital have dubbed baby Owen, Bubba.   Trust me, that’s going to stick.

I don’t know much about babies but I think all newborn babies look like Winston Churchill.  Sure, the odd ones look like an alien but, for the most part, they bare a striking resemblance to Churchill.  Bubba Owen is no different.  The only difference is that Rachelle gave birth to a life-size version of Churchill.  

To the proud parents, thank you for this wonderful gift and I can’t wait for Bubba Owen to otter his first words, “We shall never surrender”.

Until next time

Cheers

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