We never really planned for our little guy. Neither of us wanted kids. The plan was to go it without children, and since I had been told I would likely have trouble conceiving we really hadn’t given it much thought.
Until I projectile vomited in the wastebasket at work one cold January morning, after what I thought was an extended bout of the stomach flu; then, suddenly, frighteningly, being pregnant was all I did think about.
When I finally peed on the stick and it came up with the “You’re knocked up” symbol, I could hardly believe it. I was terrified, scared, and nervous. I did not want this! I did not plan for this! Cripes I was plastered over Christmas, what if I pickled the baby already? All of the changes and challenges lay open before me, and I was very unsure of my ability to meet them.
I yelled out to Don, who was downstairs, oblivious to the fact I was even testing for pregnancy, when he came upstairs I handed him the stick. Hoping he would tell me I read it wrong. I hadn’t.
I will never forget the look on his face, and I know I can’t describe it. He was happy. He was trying to hide it but he was happy. And I was somehow comforted by that.
I was at the three month mark when I suffered a subchorionic hemorrhage. Don was at work when it happened. There was so much blood, and a great deal of it appeared to be tissue, I was convinced that the baby was gone. All I could see in my mind was Don’s face, when I told him I was pregnant, and I could not get the image out of my head.
A friend came to rush me to the hospital, I called Don at work, and said there had been an accident and asked him to meet me at the hospital. I didn’t know what was going on, but I did not want to have to explain it all over the phone.
I was in an observation room when Don arrived, waiting to be examined. He open the curtain, worried, wondering what he would find, and I blurted out: ”I think I lost the baby. I am so sorry, I lost the baby”. His face broke. There is no other way to describe it. I killed something in him with those words. I could see it.
It was hours more before I was examined, and hours again before I got an ultrasound to see what was going on. When the Doctor confirmed I was still pregnant I could hardly believe him. They told me my odds of carrying to term were 50/50, put me on bed rest and sent me home.
Somehow we made it through, and we are both overjoyed we did. Our son makes us both better people, he has given us more than we can ever hope to give him. He made my husband a father, and what an exceptional father he is. Don and Wil have an incredible bond. It started the moment my husband found out I was expecting: a bond that was sealed between them the moment Don held Wil in his arms.
Happy Father’s Day Don. We never do things the easy way do we?
4 comments:
That was lovely... the nicest thing I've read all day. Stories like this always bring a tear to my eye. Maybe you have to be a father (or mother!) to get it...
Thank you Geoff, Happy Father's Day.
After I read this, I paused the PVR and read it aloud to my wife. I managed to get through it without letting the lump in my throat crack my voice.
Happy Father's Day to you both. You deserve it!
Thanks Steve, that was very sweet of you to say. I hope you were treated well yesterday!
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