A Letter

Dear Brad Paisley-
I'm quite certain my husband writes the songs you sing. Much like Barry Manilow and the Whole World, but much much better! After all, how is it that you sing lines that are obviously about me like "she's a one glass of wine and she's feeling kinda tipsy" and "she's the giver I wish I could be and the stealer of the covers" and what about "to the world you may be just another girl but to me baby, you are the world."

Anywho...last spring after hearing you sing one of my husband's songs, I declared "If Brad Paisley comes to town, we must see him!" Now I have to let you know that at the time, I was a few weeks pregnant with our 2nd boy. And I must also let you know that we played around with the idea of naming our boy Huck - we thought you wouldn't mind sharing your baby's name.

Well low and behold, not too long after this declaration, I read in the paper that you would be in town...on November 20...2 days before I was to birth our sweet baby via c-section. This in no way hampered my original plan so my dear husband proceeded to purchase concert tickets.

Now not only would I be very very VERY pregnant when you were in town, but hearing you sing live the words my husband wrote about me, well...I knew I'd be a blubbering mess. And the only thing worse than a girl crying is a ginormously pregnant girl crying - no - blubbering. And let's be honest, my husband is quite...uhm...well...frugal. So we opted for the cheap seats. I just needed to wedge myself in a seat somewhere way up high in the dark and I'd be on cloud 9!

I need to let you know Mr. Paisley - Brad if I may - my first baby boy was overdue - 1 whole week to be exact! So we were in no way worried that second baby boy was going to budge. Boy were we wrong!

On the very morning of your concert, I began cleaning like a maniac (can you say nesting?). That afternoon, we were going back and forth about the concert. I had used up my daily allotted energy cleaning and was all kinds of swollen. We decided this was probably the last time we'd be a part of society for quite a while so we may as well partake in the concert going!

I finished up some work then got on the BOK Center website to try and figure out parking. Lord knows I needed something super close as my feet were swollen into giant clubs. After navigating around and realizing my silly pregnant brain wasn't getting us anywhere, my beloved told me to get up so he could take a stab at this parking situation.

Brad, it was at this moment the decision to not go to the concert was made for us. My water broke! I said this to my husband "Uhm...my water just broke". I had been playing "girl who cries amniotic sack rupture" for about a month now so he's all - yeah right. "Uhm. No. Look". He looks...then..."OK. OK. OK. OK. Uhm...what do we do? OK. OK. OK."

Fast forward to the hospital. In the c-section room, I told everyone how we were missing the Brad Paisley (your) concert. Everyone agreed it was probably for the best that we weren't there. A nurse turned on the radio to a local country station. I don't remember what songs we heard, but I do remember one - "Little Moments". I cried. My husband cried. It was perfect. Oh and I heard "Hillbilly Bone" when they were putting me back together and I thought that was pretty funny.

So there you have it! You will forever be a part of our son's birth story. Oh and his name is Thatcher (from my mind) and Rippy (after his great grandpa). He's going to be a star lineman for his high school football team and an astounding scientist!

Yours Truly,
-Jenny


Guess which one cost more?