Heading into the Home Stretch!!!!

Posted By on Jul 25, 2013 | 0 comments

In only a matter of weeks Deb and I will welcome our little Sam into the world outside the womb.  What a wondrous thing!  It’s something we’ve all done but none of us remember.  Perhaps it’s a good thing we don’t remember it.

Precious Newborn Baby Held By Dad

Yet, my daughter will be covered with love, cuddles, and kisses that she will never remember.  But they will become her.  Everything we do will matter, because it will matter to that being.  That’s not only for who she will be, but for who she is.

Some Thoughts on Masculinity and Crying

If there are any men out there who are afraid of crying (do men still feel that?) at the birth, I implore you to let it flow.  you need only look at me, and you’ll feel okay about it.  I was on the hospital tour the other day and got choked up like 365 times (okay probably more like 6 or 7) just imagining holding my little girl or holding Deb’s hand for support.  The point is you can’t cry any more than me, and no one would think I’m not a man.

The truest men are those who become who they are instead of becoming what others expect them to be.

There’s nothing unnatural about a man crying.  It’s withholding tears that is learned and unnatural.  Sometimes this is for the better.  For example, perhaps a man needn’t cry when he bangs his toe into the wall.  But it’s unfortunate when a man never cries.  In that part of his sensibility he lives in a cage that he helped construct and maintain.

I’m not sure why I’m talking so much about crying and masculinity right now.  This post was really meant to be about excitement for Sam’s birth.

Getting Back to Being Excited for Our Birth

As expecting parents many of us spend lengths of time thinking, dreaming really, as strongly as we’ve ever dreamed anything in our all too short lives, about all the things we will do with our precious child.  I’ve probably dreamed up about 1/3 of her youth in my mind at this point.  Lol.

And you know I think that’s perfectly alright.  As long as we don’t allow our dreams to box in our children, and dictate their lives, I think those dreams are just perfect.  They’re idealistic no doubt, but they are still perfect.

So here we are: counting down the days until our daughters birth and the rebirth of our lives.

What a glorious life this is … that this is even possible.

(What an esoteric and fun post :P).

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