16 September 2011
A Man Born
Every man can recall a point in his life that he officially became a “man”. For some it was being sent off to war, for others it was the first time they were legally allowed to consume a beer, but for me it was when my son was born. At first a feeling of instant fear, and doubt entered my brain. I was happy, but scared. The look on my face was one of standing on an ice covered pond when the ice is starting to crack. I knew immediately of my impending fate: advice from people who don’t even have kids, cutting the cord, getting crotch-rammed by an out of control two year old, diapers, formula, lack of sleep, the title of dad, and all of the responsibilities that come with that title.
What we were told from the doctor at the first appointment to confirm the pregnancy test was that everything should be okay, emphasis on the word should. With a quick look at my wife’s chart an eye opening response was what I saw from the doctor. I had noticed that he had seen a history of a past pregnancy failed the next thing I knew we were choosing what prenatal specialist we were going to choose.
The drive home from the doctor’s office was one of complete silence as both of us were in shock and fear. Looking at my wife I could tell that her head is consumed by all the thought that were in my head, are we going to lose this baby too? What problems will arise throughout this pregnancy? And a prenatal specialist? Surely our doctor must know that there are going to be problems. The weeks leading up to the first visit with the specialist were weeks filled with doubt and fear. No announcements of the pregnancy were made. No one running out to get the cutest baby clothes in a contest to see whos outfit get chosen to put on the baby when he comes home from the hospital, or shopping for all the latest gadgets created for babies, (like wipe warmers, diaper trash cans, Sealy postrapeadict crib mattresses,) when just...