The further along in the pregnancy that we are getting, the more real it is becoming that our son will likely be born alive. Every day that he gives me high fives through Alex’s tummy, every day that I pray for him to grow in stature and wisdom and favour with God and man, and every day that I hear his heartbeat at a midwife appointment, it becomes more real that I am a father and will likely get to fully embrace that role with my son as he grows up in this world.
Sometimes I find myself thinking about possibilities. Usually those possibilities involve some sort of tragedy happening to Alex, myself or my son. And as the due date is drawing closer these imaginations seem to happen more and more frequently. I think this is normal. I think with the long journey and losses we’ve experienced along the way, not to mention the due date being very close to the death anniversary of some dear friends’ daughter, I think it’s understandable that I would deal with thoughts like these, at times, as the birth draws near.
And I’m glad I don’t have to process them alone. I don’t go into details with Alex, but I’ll let her know when they are happening more often, and I know we’re praying for each other. Also, I frequently find myself inviting Father God into those thoughts and, where before I’d be looking for guarantees from Him that he won’t allow our family to experience any more tragedies, now I find myself asking him to remain at our side throughout whatever comes our way. I also ask for release from fear and for help to direct my thoughts positively to dreaming good “what ifs” with Him.
I still feel a little melancholy as I write this, but I can also remember just a couple hours ago, when I was on the lawn tractor, the joy of dreaming about foraging with my son for wild asparagus and raspberries and grapes in our tree line. In the same sweep around the property I passed by the plaque dedicating a fruitful apple tree to his brother’s memory, the fire pit where I look forward to making smores together and the field where I can teach him archery.
And I think that is happening more and more too. That the dreams really are outnumbering the fears.
My son’s birth is a thing that is actually happening.