Strollering Through My Thoughts

I’m sitting on a plane. Yes, I’m in first class which makes in only slightly more bearable. I’m in first class because I’m top tier on an airline. It also means that too many days last year I was in an airplane not with my wife. Given all we’ve gone through in the last 12 months, I sometimes feel exceptionally guilty. Two weekends ago, Tara was thrown a baby shower. I’ve never been shy in hiding my contempt for the whole “shower” process. Baby showers. Wedding Showers. Bachelorette Parties. Whoever decided to get married or have a child should have made that decision understanding the financial implications of that decision. If you can’t afford to get married, then don’t. If you can’t afford to have a child, then don’t.

Tara and I sat down and decided to have a child. We want this more than anything and I’m supremely confident that we’ll be amazing parents. But I don’t believe that any of our friends or family is responsible for providing us with the goods necessary to provide for our daughter. We made a conscious decision in having a daughter. Not only did we make that decision, but we went through hell to have her. Me bending over for the doctor, taking hormone pills, taking vitamins and advil (long story) were an extremely small price compared to the painful surgery Tara endured that was simply exploratory. I don’t discuss these things because I want sympathy. I only discuss them for context so you can understand how I’m feeling.

The last eight months has seen more milestones for me than I can count. We found out we were pregnant in mid June. I feel guilty saying that ‘we’ are pregnant. The funny thing about pregnancy is that it’s something you either really want or it’s something that you really don’t. When you don’t want to be pregnant, I imagine that a boyfriend/lover/husband says something to the effect off “You’re pregnant. What do you want to do about it?”. When a couple wants more than anything to be parents, they say “We’re pregnant! This is amazing!”. The truth is that Tara is pregnant. She’s the one going through dramatic changes: hormones, weight gain (to be fair, she looks amazing), emotional highs and lows. I get a free ride to parenthood. Finding out about the pregnancy was the first milestone in the last 35 weeks. There have been many others. We saw the tiny flicker on the sonogram machine in mid July. The first week of October, we found out that our child was to be a little girl. In case you haven’t heard, my face turned white and I nearly passed out at the doctor’s office I was so happy, amazed, and surprised. The next week after that, we ordered the furniture for the nursery (that shit’s expensive!). Three weeks later we pretty much settled on Olivia as our daughter’s name.

Each of these milestones took my internal realization of the amazing change that’s about to happen to us to the next level. That said, I want to take a step back to when I got home Sunday night. Tara was so excited for all the amazing gifts people were kind enough to share with us. I found my skepticism waning. As we started to go through all the gifts to ensure Thank You notes were accurate and not neglected, things started to change for me. I’ll be honest. There are two gifts that stood out to me that have dramatically changed my outlook. My mother was kind enough to purchase the stroller/car seat combination that we wanted. It was definitely not inexpensive. Tara’s mother was kind enough to purchase the bedding that our daughter will be sleeping upon. I can’t believe how much a stroller and bedding would cost. As we opened the package with the bedding, there’s something about velvety-smooth thread woven into a perfectly sewn blanket that changed me. As Tara sat there and watched me put together a stroller that I’m simply not intelligent enough to figure out how to operate, something changed.

As I sat there and looked at the two things that my daughter will be spending the most time touching, something changed. I’m going to be a father. And please spare me the “You’ve known you’re going to be a father for 8 months”. Yes. Absolutely true. The problem is that if you know me, you know that my brain and heart are frequently disconnected.

If you’ve had the patience to read up to this point(if you skipped to then end, go back to ‘Start’ and do not collect $200), you know that I’m cynical about ‘showering’. I had a discussion about imperfection with my father last week about people being ‘perfectly imperfect’. I’m admitting that maybe I was wrong about the whole process. I’m imperfect. Maybe I’m even perfectly imperfect.

I guess what I’m trying to say to those that came to a shower for us, mailed a gift, sent a prayer for Olivia, Tara or Me, or just thought about us, I was wrong about everything. All I can do is offer my unending gratitude for your gifts that have granted me the ability to see what seems so simple but has eluded me for 8 months: I’m going to be a dad. And for that, I’ll be eternally grateful.