Daybreak

I sit here on the cusp of what can only be called some major shit. Tomorrow, my wife and I check into the hospital to begin the modern medical procedure known as “birth.” It’s been 9 impossibly long months in the making, with the day of arrival a white-hot point of focus leading us on like flies to a lightbulb. Now that it’s here, I’m instantly nostalgic about the journey we’ve just traversed. Time, in its weird Silly Putty consistency, feels long and short all at once.

There was finding out (my wife, always one for over preparing, took six – six! – tests before breaking the news to me), our first glimps of him on the grainy screen of a Phillips ultrasound monitor, first kicks, first moves, first bout of hiccups. A million moments in between, large and small, like pieces of confetti. I’m only now beginning to process them all. I might not ever fully digest the experience.

That’s life overall, isn’t it? When it’s happening, really happening, the little constructs in our brains are fully exposed for what they are- illusions, parlor tricks of the mind to keep our egos entertained. Fate, karma, the universe, whatever you want to call it- that’s the real driver. We’re so small, and nothing smaller than the notions we carry in our minds. Yet it’s hard to feel too bad about it. This river of time has a sort of benevolent undercurrent to it, doesn’t it? Breathe in, breathe out- there it is. Now. There’s only now.

When you reach the top of a mountain, it’s strange how you instantaneously miss the climb. It’s a shift, a transformation, things internally shifting and sorting. We’re pretty sensitive to those internal waves, but it’s out greatest asset. The ability to feel, to realize. To be affected.

For my wife and I, delivery day has been the driving goal in our lives these last 9 months. Now that it’s here, I feel that cold mountaintop air filling my lungs and the surreal realization of the path we’ve traveled. Oddly enough, I’ll miss these pregnancy days, when it was just the three of us, hearts beating as one. He’ll never be closer than right now. But alas, the time has come.

It’s the end of today and the beginning of tomorrow. I have no idea what to expext, but when I shift control from my brain to my heart, it all makes sense. It’s just life, you know? I’m so glad we’ve made it, and I can’t wait for what’s next.