We went on a tour of the birthing center at Good Samaritan Hospital in Suffern this past Sunday, and I couldn't help but think about the good old U.S. Space Program. Probably the second most important detail in planning space flight––the first being reaching outerspace––is where in hell is this giant heap of metal and flesh going land after re-entry into our atmosphere. So I felt like a NASA location scout walking the halls of the landing area of our child, busy preparing for its climactic entry from the inner space of the Dana galaxy into the outerspace of life here on earth. It really hit me that I am going to be a father, seeing the nursery filled with little people (being manhandled by the nursing staff), and the room that we'll bring our spaceship down to a safe warm landing to the anticipating eyes and arms of its new family. Seeing the various computer screens in each room with all their wires snaking through the walls to the NASA command center, where nurses sip thier coffee while monitoring the inner space atmosphere radar screens. Boop. Boop. Beep. Boop. Incoming. There's a window opening in the atmosphere, take your opportunity now pilot! Fire all thrusters!
Then last night in our birthing class we watched a video of a water birth that took place in a Mexican home, the mother was also a mid-wife who chose to deliver her baby herself, away from the boops and bleeps of the NASA birthing center. And she did it! We watched as her baby popped out and slowly floated to the surface of the water, was lifted out, and took her first breath, not a computer monitor within a mile of the scene. So, there were the Wright Brothers and their contraption; and now there's the space shuttle.
Well, lost my train of thought. Have a busy day ahead of me. Here's a pic of our little astronaut in it's spaceship, working the controls.