This is my first ever, and potentially only, blog entry. It’s part of my Father’s Day gift to Paul this year. Since I no longer have an income, I’m learning to be creative with gift-giving. I’m not sure that Paul will consider this a gift or not, but I’m hoping that by sharing my thoughts and feelings from the amazing ride we’ve experienced this past year, that he will see how much I love him and know how proud I am to say that he is my “baby daddy”.
This year, Father’s Day is special not just because it is Paul’s first official Father’s Day, but also because it is the anniversary of our discovering that Sam was on his way. A year ago, on last Father’s Day, I got out of bed and walked groggily to the bathroom to take what would ultimately become the most important test of our lives. Paul called after me to just wait one more day. I knew he was trying to protect me from the disappointment that had accompanied all the other negative pregnancy tests I had taken for the last 18 months. We had mentally prepared ourselves for the long-haul in infertility treatments, so when the pink double lines appeared on the stick, my heart began to pound: with joy or perhaps disbelief or maybe even a little from fear. It was so different than the feeling I had had all those other times, when my heart seemed to fall from my chest into the pit of my stomach. My hands were shaking as I took the positive test back to the bedroom to show Paul. He stared. “ I don’t know what this means” he said, “I’ve never seen one of these before.” “I think it means you are going to be a daddy” I replied, somewhat tenuously. And then we cried.
Somehow, Paul knew from that very first day that Sam would be a boy. He even said as we stared in disbelief at the positive test, “It’s a boy”. I don’t think it was wishful thinking or a lucky guess. I think Paul knew. As much as I had been waiting and praying and longing for that positive test, Paul had been waiting and praying and longing too. The long months took their toll on us emotionally but also brought us closer together. For two people that seemingly always got what they wanted, it was perhaps only appropriate that the one thing we wanted more than anything else continued to allude us. Now, when we look at our sweet baby, we can only think that we love him all the more because he didn’t come easy.
I’m not sure when Paul decided that he wanted to be a dad. Maybe he had always felt that way. But I know that for as long as I have known him, he has talked with excitement about being a father. I’m sure that this is a great tribute to his own wonderful father. Paul has proven to be a natural, he intuitively knows what to do with Sam and I love watching the two of them together.
Paul started taking care of Sam while he was still in utereo. Paul went to just about every single pre-natal appointment to make sure everything was alright. He cried the first time we heard Sam’s tiny heartbeat. He had my doctor wrapped around his finger and would somehow manage to talk her into doing extra ultrasounds so we could see the baby. In early February, I slipped and fell outside in the rain. I didn’t feel the baby move for several hours and finally Paul insisted that we go to the hospital. Luckily everything was okay, but Paul demonstrated his protectiveness of both me and the baby.
Sometime in mid-July we started calling the baby Phil. Paul would talk to Phil through my belly all the time. In the morning before he left for work, Paul would get down next to my belly and say goodbye to Phil. He would kiss my belly and then kiss my forehead. We, Phil and I, felt loved. Paul decided it would be a good idea to read to Phil. Paul loves reading and is usually reading 3 to 4 books at one time and he was eager to share this old passion with his newest love. Sometime in the early fall, he started reading the beautifully translated edition of War and Peace that I gave to him for Christmas the year before. He didn’t want Phil to miss out on any great literature. Luckily for all of us, the War and Peace phase faded by December. Then Paul started reading Chekov’s short stories to Phil. I am quite convinced that this delayed the baby’s arrival. Chekov paints a very grim picture of the human experience. Happily, I came home a few weeks ago to find Paul reading Sam Baby Animals, perhaps a better fit for a young, developing mind than 19th-century Russian literature.
In January, Paul began downloading all his favorite Pete Seeger children’s songs. He wanted to make sure he had them ready to share with Sam when he arrived. Now the two of them listen to “Wake Up” in the morning and “Take You for a Ride in My Car, Car” as Paul dresses Sam for bed. Paul dresses Sam a lot. Almost every morning, while I’m scrambling to get out the door for the mommy and me gym class, Paul is calmly dressing Sam, putting Sam in his car seat, and carrying Sam out to the car for me. The one time Paul couldn’t help, Sam had to go to the gym in his pajamas, and he still hasn’t forgiven me.
Paul's main responsibility is to play with Sam and he is great at it. They have all sorts of games they play together. They apparently even have their own language.
