20 August 2011
What was once a ghost on a sonogram monitor, nothing remains. My wife and I saw an empty womb yesterday afternoon, and we could not be more relieved. It’s not because we didn’t want you, but after nearly two weeks of stress and pain and question marks, we can breathe easy. Give us a month or so, and we'll try to pull you out of the ether again.
It’s weird: it took a failed pregnancy to make me want you in our lives. My enthusiasm for parenthood has never been more than insouciant (how’s that for a word?), but these past four weeks made me more comfortable with you than before.
Why? Maybe it reflects my stubbornness (whaddya mean, we didn’t score?) or a desire to give Tori what she wants, or something else. I honestly don’t know. I’ve never felt fatherly towards anyone; even with cousins or close friends who are younger than me, I’ve felt more avuncular than fatherly towards them. Maybe you need to be in on the creation of life to feel it.
All I know is that I would like you in our lives. Maybe a ghost pregnancy, and all the anguish it caused, was what I needed to lock in that desire. All I know is that Tori and I will give it another go sometime soon, and we’ll see what happens. Maybe sometime next year – or the year after – you’ll get to share with Tori my slightly off-key whistling of “Ain’t She Sweet” while strolling across Michigan Avenue on our way home from the obstetrician.