45 Years And Counting

It’s 6 weeks or so until my daughter arrives, should all the dates line up and go according to plan. The plan never changes, right? (I know, I know…)

I’m asked if we’re ready, and I vacillate between “ready as we’ll ever be” and “not even close.”

I mean, let’s face it, what could ever get you ready for a small, tiny life that’s completely dependant on you? It’s insane to assume even a a small part of that could be expected or prepared for.

Jess and I go to classes, where they try to get us ready for her arrival, but those classes are, by good design, mostly about the birth. And dear Lord we need that so much. I’m scared. Seeing Jess in pain, I feel certain, will not go well for me. I can’t imagine what it’ll be for her.

No, getting our daughter home, meeting her, rocking her, all that, it’s a mystery. The most I’m hoping for is not-complete-shock. Asking the universe for actual capacity for competence seems too much. What right do I, a 45 year old man greeting his first baby, have to ask for skill?

We need love to be enough, or at least enough to start.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s