Hello my son.
It’s past midnight and as I write this in our small hospital room, our son is only 6 hours old. Mom and baby are asleep and I have volunteered to stay up and watch over them both as they rest for a few hours. They both had a very big day to say the least.
I am not the man I was 6 hours ago or this morning as a matter of fact. Everything I do from now on is for him and I can’t help but reflect in the midnight silence.
It’s been a very busy last 32 hours filled with anxiety, unsatisfying naps, fast food, warm nurses with loud personalities and mass-texting our closest friends and relatives with regular updates.
As I witnessed my son poke his head into the real world I later referred to my wife of that infamous scene when Andy Dufresne escaped from the Shawshank prison. This was my son’s day of freedom and any fan of the movie will immediately get the joke.
I’m so glad that Veronica’s mother and I were both in the delivery room with her. It was too long ago when men were not allowed to share in the experience. It’s difficult to put into words the experience of witnessing a miracle like that. I think it may be because I am still in the middle of it. I am still in that miracle. Maybe I will gain some perspective in a few months when I have gathered myself.
I am holding him in my arms as I type this. I am not only impressed that I can hold him and type at the same time but more importantly, at how God designs us. He has a part of me and Veronica and I think that is just incredible.
This may sound weird but he smells like Spring rain hitting the pavement.
But in a really sweet way…
The delivery was surreal. Witnessing the birth of my son and being there for V is a life changer. Imagine your whole life not knowing what baseball is and only reading about it in books with no images. Lets just say that last night I was in the field during a double-header in a championship game…