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We managed though week 12 with flying colors; those colors being Burnt Hooray and Neon Fuck Yeah. The “M” thing, it shan’t be fueling our nightmares any longer.

For those of you outside the know, the “M” word stands for the one thing most expecting parents fear above all else. More than premature birth, more than most defects, more than even the pain of childbirth itself, parents sweat at the very mention of…it. So, it will be called The “M” Word.

12 weeks is the understood point at which parents can breathe a little easier. Once past this time, the chances of the dreaded “M” word are greatly reduced. Sort of like airplane flight in that take-off and the initial climb is where 22% of all plane related deaths occur. Most of the remaining 78% occur during the landing in which case the cabin becomes like a giant coffin. A Steel Berth, if you will.

During the 12 week period I often considered asking my wife’s smart friend Jess for guidance in dealing with the potential “M,” as she’s never steered me wrong. I think of her as my own personal Professor Xavier. But then I realized that this seemingly mild mannered, smart friend has a degree in Metallurgy. Such a degree is good for just two devious things 1) urgying metal, and 2) building diabolical weapons. Never mind Jess, or should I say Dr. Jess McSinister. I don’t need my kid persuaded by your evil talk. Good beings turn bad sometimes. Remember the “Enemy of the State” series of Wolverine comics back in 2004 when Wolverine was brainwashed by The Hand into being evil? Yes you do, nerd. Most expecting parents dread The “M” Word, but all expecting parents dread an arch-nemesis.

I say “most expecting parents dread” for a reason. I, for one, was actually a bit excited by the prospect of having an “M.” Don’t get me wrong, I would be happy with a normal kid, too. But a normal kid is a shitload of work. With an “M” I could be super lazy. I wouldn’t have to teach it to fight. I wouldn’t have to pay for it to go to college. And depending on what type of “M” came out I might even be able to avoid nasty things like funerals altogether.

There are a lot of reasons to welcome an “M” into your life. A few of the best:

  1. There’s a lot of crime in this world; having an “M” would help alleviate that.
  2. Regular kids get regular names. With an “M” we could choose any number of crazy names. Or even pay homage to greats like Sleepwalker, Angel, Deadbolt, or even Black Womb from Gambit #4.
  3. We could put it in a crime-fighting vehicle called The “M” Carriage.

I’m not asking that everyone jump in the “M” Carriage with me. I don’t expect everyone to be as accepting as I am. Perhaps my ability to see past human flaws and glimpse the potential hidden within this different kind of birth is testament to my own genetic superiority.

EDIT: Hoooly shit. I was just informed that the “M” word refers to MISCARRIAGE as in death, not MUTANT as in super hero.


About this site:

These are the words of a man learning to be a father with nothing to guide him but the wisdom of friends, his wife, his family, and some pretty good hunches…like, really good hunches, though.

Action Montage:

4 weeks

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24 weeks

28 weeks

The Goal (replace dotted line with actual profile)

Read this…

"A Mean Utility" short story from Craig Davidson's collection, Rust and Bone.(This goes to an excerpt; the full story deals more with fatherhood, I promise)

Shit Yeah, Another Baby. by By Amber Richardson

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