*Before reading you might want to read an explanation/disclaimer about this series of blog entries found below.

Dear Son,

The past months have been a journey, especially for your mother.  Pregnancy is crazy.  It’s been fun and strange to watch your legs and arms rub against Alie’s belly.  I wonder if you can hear us.  It seems like you like food based on your activity after Alie eats.  You take after your father.  Anyways, we can’t wait to meet you.

This week we’re about 6 weeks from your expected delivery date.  It feels so close but also an eternity away.  We’re slowly but surely getting your room ready.  I wish we had a bigger home for you.  One with a yard.  I wish we didn’t live on a noisy street, but I’m sure you’ll come to love where we live.  It’s a wonderful city in a beautiful place, and like a portrait of humanity, is messy and amazing at the same time.  I’m also excited for you to meet our dog Sonny.  He chases shadows and loves to cuddle.  I’m sure you’ll find his fluffy, quirky presence intriguing, and hopefully he’ll be good around you.  Either way, we’ll keep you safe.

There is so much to see.  I can’t wait to show this place to you.  I can’t wait to watch you discover things.  I can’t wait to watch you learn words, remember faces, and become who you are.  We’re committed to loving and supporting you for who you are no matter what.

As long as you’re an A’s fan.

But seriously my son, there is so much to experience: movies, touch, redwood trees, ice cream, philosophy, giraffes, time, Myanmar, ocean waves, jokes, laughter, literature, friendship, scotch (we’ll save that one till later)…

There is also pain.  We won’t be able to spare you from that, and we all hate that it even exists.  Just remember that the bad things of life do not get the last word.

I’ve been praying for you.  Praying is a concept we’ll talk about at some point.   It’s sort of a hopeful trust in, surrender to, and communication with the ultimate benevolence of reality.   It comes from a part of our world that is a big part of my life, faith.  Faith and  the things we’ve created around faith reflect the best and sometimes the worst of us.  I think we’re all people of faith and for me, my faith is in Love.  Which is another big topic.  We’ll get there.  There are some pretty amazing stories that will help.

But like I said, I’ve been praying for you.  Praying that you are healthy.  Praying that we’re ready to care for you in the ways you deserve.  Praying that you’ll know that you are loved.  Praying that you’ll be a person of compassion and heart.  Praying that you’ll be the kind of baby that sleeps well.  All the books say that’s sort of a challenge at first.

So here we go.

For me, this moment feels like a waiting area before a marathon race.  Last time I ran a half marathon it was delayed for about 45 minutes.  There I stood, on a foggy Oakland morning, waiting, wondering if I have what it takes, if I’ve trained enough, and curious about each step, sight, sound, and scene that lay ahead.

Son, I already love you and I can’t wait to rediscover the world with you,

Your Dad

 

.

.

*This post if from a series of blogs written in the 6(ish) weeks before my wife and I meet our first child, who the doctors tell us will be a boy.  As a soon to be father of a son, my insides are a kaleidoscope of fear, excitement, insecurity, amazement, stress, and wonder; and I’m not even the one growing a human being within their body.  Words can’t capture the respect and admiration I have for my soul mate and life partner as she’s endured the precious miracle of pregnancy.  What follows is written from my vantage point- a personal exploration of anticipation as I get closer and closer to becoming a dad.  While there are a legion of topics that intersect with this current point in our lives, ranging from social gender constructions to spiritual pontifications, the aim of these posts is not an attempt at resolution or reconstruction.  My agenda in these messages is to explore things my soul longs to tell this person, who will soon reset my whole reality, about life as I’m learning to see it.

.

.