This time, it is a bit strange to see my son's birthday come around, because he and my ex (his mom) came down with Covid last week. So I have not been able to see him now for a week or so, and will not be able to see him until Saturday, at earliest. This saddens me, obviously. We had planned to go out together and celebrate, to take him out and let him enjoy the day. Instead, I have to remain away, at least for now. His phone has not been working properly, so I cannot even be sure that he will get either texts or phone calls. So it is more than a little frustrating.
Still, he is such a huge and meaningful part of my life, that it feels like I should do everything possible to honor the fact that it is his birthday. Plus, it is a big one, since he turns 17 today!
On this very day, the 2nd of November, 17 years ago, my life changed forever, and for the better, when my son was born.
Surely it must sound cliché, but it is nevertheless true, when I suggest that it sometimes feels like it was just a few weeks ago. It is strange, how time seems to speed up the older you get. When his mom became pregnant with him, she really did not show for the first four or five months or so. In fact, she lost weight. Also, it felt surreal that I was actually going to be a father. Those two things, and perhaps some others that are not immediately coming to mind, made it difficult to believe that it was indeed real, and that I was going to be a father. Not those times that some coworkers and friends half-jokingly referred to me as "papa," or wishing me a "Happy Father's Day."
Nor did it feel real when my coworkers threw me a surprise party, only the second one that I had in my life. Even the classes and doctor's visits did not really make it feel real, although it began to once the countdown went from months to weeks, and then to days. We knew that if the due date of November 2nd came, she was going to be induced, because there were concerns with her losing fluids, and it would become too risky beyond that point.
I can still remember the night before and the day of. She was obviously nervous the night before, and I dropped her off at the hospital. We walked in, and they told me basically to leave, that there was nothing to be done that night, but to come good and early at seven the next morning. I drove home and actually slept reasonably well. Overslept, actually, and arrived back the next morning at 7:30 in the morning.
It was a very quick process, and went as smoothly as we could have asked for. She was drugged and clearly acting like it, but she was fully dilated incredibly quickly. I remember how stunned I was at how fast everything was happening. By about 10:00 in the morning, she was giving her final pushes. At one point, his head was out, although he was not fully, officially born yet, but just his head. Still, it was my first glimpse at my son, and once again, it felt surreal.
Minutes later, he was fully out. I cut the umbilical cord, which proved much more slippery than I had expected. Not sure why this took me by surprise.
The doctors and nurses checked him, but allowed me to hold him briefly just a minute or two after he was born. Then, they continued processing him, putting a label around his ankle, and had me follow the nurse to another room, where they gave him a shot, and then took him into another room with other newborns, where he would sleep for a few hours.
My mom arrived later that day, probably around lunchtime, and I greeted her by saying, "Hi grandma!" She knew right away what I meant and was shocked at how quickly it had gone. The weather was unseasonably warm and sunny. Funny, but I do not remember going out of the hospital much, although I probably did to get lunch or dinner or something.
Later that evening, everybody gather around. My parents and hers, as well as my brother, all in the same hospital room. Everybody looked at him and got a chance to hold him. If there was one single, defining moment when the reality that I was now a father hit, it was when my son began to cry in my brother's arms, and he handed my son off to me. For some reasons that I still do not know, I began to hum to him in a low voice. He stopped crying - my son, not my brother - and looked up and seemed to be searching for the source of the noise, even though his eyes surely could not see just yet. He felt with his hand, and his tiny hand found my finger and gave me a squeeze. If there was indeed that one single moment when it all came home, that was it.
Still, it felt a bit surreal. The first few days in the hospital felt strange. His crying felt muted, almost quiet. My then wife continued to recover. He was born on a Wednesday, and by Friday, we took him home for the first time. I drove unusually slowly, and found out for the first time that the subtle rocking motions of driving puts babies to sleep.
Of course, there was some level of adjustment. But one thing I remember thinking, and it was around two weeks after he was born, was that the life that I had always known prior to his birth seemed foreign to me. That was the final moment of convincing, if such a moment were needed, that the reality that I was not a father became undeniable.
Since then, that same sense of foreignness, an inability to relate to the life that I had always known prior to my son entering this world, has persisted. Being a father changed my life, and for the better. Indeed, I feel like a better man because of it. There is just something to becoming a parent and bringing the miracle of a new life into this world that really does change you.
Now obviously, parenting has it's challenges. I would never suggest otherwise. There are times when kids will challenge you, when you get annoyed or angry at them over the course of the years. Yet through it all, I have always, always been so very thankful and felt so truly blessed for his presence in my life. He is a healthy and happy boy, I think, and for that I am indeed truly grateful. It makes me proud to see how he has grown up, and to see the person, the young man, who he has become. I would like to think that I have been a part of that, and perhaps it is conceit, but I also believe myself to be a pretty good father. Not perfect, not mistake free, because there certainly have been mistakes along the way. But through it all, I always made sure to give him unconditional love and support, to make him feel like the welcome addition and blessing to the world that he is. Pretty sure that he feels he has a place in this word, and again, I would like to believe that I have had a part in that.
Today is unique in some ways, because it marks the first time that I am not spending the birthday with him. Oh, there was a little bit of time together this morning, but it was when I drove he and his mom to Newark Airport. They are taking a trip there to visit her brother, his uncle, and it is a wonderful opportunity for him to do still a bit more traveling, and see some new things. So while I am a bit sorry that we did not actually get to spend more time on his birthday together, we did nonetheless have a nice afternoon/evening together yesterday, and we went to see Dune, a move that we both really enjoyed.
So on this, his 16th birthday, I wished him a very happy birthday, and here on this blog, just wanted to express once again my extreme gratitude for the blessing that is his presence in my life. My world has become so much better because he is a part of it.
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Europe 2019 Trip
2020:
Old Faithful
Las Vegas
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