Refocus

It's strange how quickly the focus of your life can change. Prior to last week's news, my main concern was worrying about how I was going to pull off being a parent. Oh my god, will I be a good dad? Everything's going to change! I suppose, in retrospect, I was really just being selfish. What I really was worrying about was whether I would be willing to do what was necessary to be a good parent. Wondering if I would be sad, confused, possibly even resentful about the changes to the structure of my life that would need to be made. And I realize now how self-centered my thinking was, because today, on this Monday after a beautiful and anxious weekend, all I want in the whole world is for these two mystery men growing in my wife's belly to be born healthy and safe. If our hopes are realized and that happens, I know now that there is no change or sacrifice I wouldn't make to my life for these guys. So, if there is one bright kernel of positivity than can be extracted from this whole situation, it is this: I now realize just how very much I want to be a father, and I know that I will be a good one. Now let's do this.

The way Kris and I relate to our pregnancy in the context of this new medical diagnosis has completely changed. What was once giddy and exciting is now tinged with anxiety and fear. Things we were looking forward to are now dauntingly scary to us, such as the idea of preparing the nursery. What should be a loving and hopeful act now comes loaded with the specter of heartbreak and instead of just being able to enjoy creating this room for our children, we must consider the possibility that there will be no one to inhabit it. It's a crushing thing, and I know we just have to put it out of our heads. Flip side: imagine the joy we will feel if we are able to bring home two healthy, happy whippersnappers. Egads, it's enough to make me wish I believed in something to pray to.