Perhaps it's hypocritical of me to launch a blog when I heckle the wife for obsessively checking facebook and discouraging her from posting information that ruthless identity thieves or creepy strangers could use in some way to destroy us. Notwithstanding (or "irregardless" if you're from Mass.) I realized that I need an outlet to memorialize my thoughts in anticipation of a particularly important event in our lives.
Around 6 months ago, I came home on a Sunday afternoon. Observing the remote unattended, I seized control and dialed up ESPN. The wife disappeared immediately to the back of our place and reappeared carrying a white plastic thing. I knew before she said anything.
She had seemed a bit antsy for me to get home when she called my cell earlier that day. The week before, she declared that her boobs felt weird. Half listening, I dismissed her comment as wishful thinking.
At 33, we were a bit behind our contemporary friends and family members in babymaking. Based on the experiences of many of our loved ones with children, we appreciated that conception was much more difficult than was advertised in our high school health classes.
We were only in our first month after pulling the goalie for the empty netter. Like someone transported from 1915 who learns about the Internet for the first time, the wife explained the concept of an ovulation kit to me. On the two days of that month when the planets were in alignment, she ordered me into bed after confirming her calculations. Afterwards, she laid on a pillow with her back arched like they do in the movies - that is, the movies about couples trying to have a baby, not other kinds - okay, moving on. I was cautiously optimistic we'd conceive by the end of 2008.
Back in our living room, I contemplated skeptically in silence: "It couldn't have happened on our first try, right?" When she showed me the two pink lines, I was encouraged but still not convinced. We'll know for sure when she goes to the doctor for the blood test or whatever they do to make it official. Becoming annoyed that I was not contemporaneously experiencing her elation, the wife orated passionately about the pee stick's accuracy percentages. Still, I had my doubts. I mean it was a generic Tar-zhay pregnancy test. How much could I trust it?
Eventually, I came around. My wife and I shared that special moment when you realize, "We are having a baby!" and then "Nice, I've got swimmers!" followed by "Holy shit, are we ready for this?"
In the 5 or so months since that day, I've had a lot of other thoughts building up inside my head. By far, the majority of my feelings about becoming a father have been happy excitement. But, I've also had the occasional anxieties, fears, and trepidation of the unknown creep up on me, too. Hopefully, this blog will be a good medium for airing those thoughts. I hope you enjoy it.
Questions, comments, observations, or other feedback welcome.