The Advice Column

Less than a week till the due date and it’s hard not to think about how much our lives will change after Finley arrives. Everyone we know who has kids, has relatives with kids or once saw a kid gives us lots of advice. Advice and stories. Most of them deal with how much sleep we’re not going to get. THAT part is pretty understandable. But I also know there are other things that are difficult, if not impossible to describe. Things for which there really is no advice.

What will it be like when I first see her? How am I supposed to react? What I’m going to say? I have all these thoughts in my head, like I’m about to go on a first date (Not that I go on dates, dear). I find myself thinking about these things. It’s not like I’m going to shake her hand and introduce myself, “Hi. I’m Randy, but you can call me Daddy.” My wife is certain I will cry, which is probably what will happen. But how will I FEEL? What will it be like to know there is someone so small and so fragile depending on me? What will it be like to hold this little person that we made, together? And what will go through my mind when her eyes meet mine for the first time?

Then I remember that this is the beauty of the whole process. I absolutely don’t know. And that’s how it’s supposed to be. Whatever it is that I am about to feel, I know that love will be biggest part of it. Love for my new baby and love for my wife who will be going through this entire life-changing experience from a whole different point of view. Sure, this is going to be quite an amazing event for me. That’s pretty obvious. But I can only begin to imagine what Heather is about to go through.

As wonderful as the whole pregnancy process has been, it sure is unfair in many ways. And I’m not just talking about the pain of birth, here. I’m talking about pregnancy as a whole. It’s interesting that how, in our society, we place so much emphasis on all the discomfort in pregnancy; Morning sickness, stretch marks, rearranged organs and many things that most women don’t want to discuss. But what about the good stuff? Well, good from my point of view, anyway.

My wife calls me over, from time to time, to feel the baby move. This little, crouched gymnast likes to work on her floor routine, particularly in the evenings. Tiny elbows and feet glide under my wife’s belly and I wonder what that must feel like. What is it like to not only create a life, but keep it in inside you as it grows? I have to think the pure amazement must outweigh the discomfort. Of course, I don’t pretend to speak for my wife in these matters.

Then there is the birth, itself. For the sake of my wonderment, let’s forget about the pain and think about what is actually happening. A life is being born. A very small person is leaving a perfectly warm and comfortable water bubble, is pushed out into a cold, bright world and has to start using these things called lungs. Sounds kind of scary, but humans have been doing this for a few years, so I think we’ll be okay. And I can’t help to feel that the fact that Heather is literally giving life makes me just a bit jealous. Not that I would trade places, but what a great gift to have. Probably the greatest gift of all. No wonder the dad on all those Learning Channel shows looks so helpless. There’s not much he can do, except be there for her. And from what I’ve seen, heard and read, that’s a pretty important role.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the first person to ever go through this. And no matter how much advice I get or how many Learning Channel shows we watch, it feels like I’m charting some undiscovered country. In many ways I am. This is new stuff for me. This is new stuff for Heather. And that’s what all the advice is about. It’s about all the friends and family we have, who have gone through this, sharing their experiences and letting us know that we’re not alone. That it doesn’t have to be so scary. That we have support. In the long run, I guess we just have soak up every moment for what it is. That way, when it’s our turn, we’ll be the ones to give the advice.