Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
This year has been a lot for me and like most 'endings' I've been reflecting a lot; so much has happened. For starters, Diane and I decided that—after two years of marriage—we wanted to add to our family. We've had a dog since we got together and though she is our baby, Diane has always wanted kids.
She'd tell me her dreams of hearing little feet pattering around in the morning and about all the cute matching outfits she'd buy and gosh the pictures she'd take. I, on the other hand, was always hesitant about being a mother; I never thought I was the type. Truly I was afraid of being like my own mother and I didn't want to inflict that upon any little human.
However, when the brunette brought up the topic as a formal discussion—she was so considerate of my feelings. She understood my fears and quelled them with simple words. We were going to be in this together, she'd said. So, after months of deliberation and many doctor visits, I became pregnant. I still remember her first reactions when she found out...
A knock on the door tears my focus from the little stick in my hands and I glance towards the only thing separating me from my lovely wife. "Sweetheart? Are you alright in there? You've been quiet for a while" I can't bring myself to respond, probably due to the shock. I look back at those two blue lines and tears fill my eyes.
It didn't take long at all for me to get pregnant, I mean one treatment?! Usually it takes many and even then it just doesn't catch for some women. It's all so fast and I can't help but feel overwhelmed and unprepared but I'm sure that's how all first time mothers feel, right? "Ummm I-I'm ok" I stutter unconvincingly.
"I'm coming in, ok? Don't be frightened" I knew she'd be able to tell my tone was off, Diane always knows. When she opens the door to find me sitting on the floor she immediately falls to her knees and crawls over to me. "What's-" I lift the test so she can see it and bite my lip nervously. I know this is something she wanted but I'm afraid she might not have been ready so soon.
So, upon seeing her blank expression, fear courses through my veins. "How many did you-" "5" I cut her off and she nods slowly. "That's... that's incredible, baby! A-are you excited?" I can't help but sigh in relief at the big smile on her face, though my nerves try hard to combat those happy feelings. "I'm nervous... what if-" "don't worry. I'll be here the whole way and we have 9 months to prepare, remember? You'll do fantastic, I just know it!"
We actually only had a little over 8 months as our daughter came a bit early; she was perfectly healthy and active as ever. Yet, despite all the books I read, I never prepared enough. The first week we were home was probably the worst. She cried all night and I was trying to breastfeed her like they said to but eventually had to switch to bottles.
The end of that first week didn't bring a cease to her seemingly endless tears. She cried so much I feared something was wrong and took her to the doctor. They told me she simply had colic; a harmless condition some babies experience that makes them prone to distress. I read every article and book I could find on it and tried every treatment but nothing seemed to work.
