Denise and I didn’t decide to have a baby lightly. To be honest it took me awhile to warm up to the idea at all. It’s safe to say that babies have always petrified me. Small kids, yeah, not so much of those either. I’ve always had a tough time around them, and until Gabriel was born I had never actually held a baby before. Nuts, I know, but there it is.
I have no regrets about our decision. Watching him being born was one of the most singularly happy days I’ve ever had. It’s impossible to not believe in miracles when you watch that tiny little person being born. A life being brought in to the world. A life you helped create. There aren’t words in any language that I know of sufficient to describe that feeling.
Sure, before he was born I read a lot about babies, and did some research. I really knew next to nothing about babies in general let alone how to care for one. I wanted to do my best to be ready for the experience. During the entire pregnancy I knew he would one day have to come on out of the womb, but it wasn’t entirely real. That feeling that I was going to be a parent hadn’t quite registered in my brain. There were brief moments where I began to see the light, before some part of me slammed that door, locked it, and pushed several dresser sets up against it.
I had braced myself for it as best as I could, and the second he was born that all went right out the window. Any last bit of of prepared that I had felt evaporated like a drop of water fizzling away on a hot skillet. My feelings of happiness were tempered by feelings of absolute terror. I’m not sure it’s possible to ever be ready for when you’re first child is born. You can go through all the motions, do all the leg work, but once that moment is upon you and there’s no denying that everything is absolutely real, the game changes.
Four months later there are still many moments throughout the day where I find myself wondering what I got myself in to. But still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.