Another one?

Several weeks ago my beautiful wife says, "Hon. I'm not feeling really great, and my boobs hurt, and I'm a couple of days late. Can we pick up a pregnancy test?"

While attempting to stay visibly calm, the inside of my head was freaking out, "This is fucking crazy. She can't be serious. We've had these 'scares' before and her cycle is more often off kilter than clockwork. Geezus!", I then audibly respond in a cool voice, "Well, I've got to get to CVS anyway so just come with me and we'll pick one up."

I'm 42, I've been together with the same amazing woman since college, we have two amazing sons who are now 14 and 17, and we've been through all kinds of highs and lows. We are a close, adoring, strong, family. But the thought of having another child is paralyzing, scary, and a bit threatening.

But I get really excited too. I love being a dad. It's what I'm best at...not that I'm a great dad but, you get it. I want to pick out names, make sure this kid gets properly initiated, "brainwashed", entrenched, into becoming a fan of all my favorite teams, first babbles, smiles, words, steps, and other fun stuff. Then the weight of the financial burden hits me in the chest and I can physically feel it. It will be another 20 years before we can "get on" with our lives, and we were so close. My breathing gets shallow, I even hunch over a little, and I can feel the skin on my face tighten.

Right here is where I desperately want to transition to what will be a happy, sunny, ending but I'm not feeling it.

What I am feeling is that parenting* is the most sacred calling a person can have. Here we are, Bonnie and I, recipients of a miracle or extremely slim scientific odds (as if there is a difference), bringing another life into the world, feeling lucky and unprepared in the same flash.

I watched her napping on the couch the other day and cried quietly, moved by her energy, and power, and body, building, creating. Our sons have instantly taken on roles of protectors and path pavers for "the baby", and pride wells up in me. Even the cat is being nice. This is for real.

How things are going to work out is a mystery but things will work out. We've survived and grown closer through tragedies, now we are faced with dealing with the fallout of creative triumph. To paraphrase Wanda Sykes, A baby will fuck up and ruin your life. But it gives you a brand new one.

Here's to a new life, again.


*Parenting takes a lot of forms and I know many people that do not have any biological, or adoptive, children but are amazing parents.