Thunderstorms are tricky. We're never certain when they're coming. We don't know how long they'll last. We don't know the damage they'll cause in their wake. It can be difficult to imagine the sunshine on the horizon in the midst of chaos. Grief is the same way. When we lose someone we love, it can be difficult to imagine life without them. How will we ever return to a level of normalcy after the storm of loss settles? How do we move on? Can we really move on? We have to remember to count our rainbows.
"I have a son." Over the course of the last few weeks, I've found myself saying this a lot. I think about it when I wake, I dream about it when I sleep, and I even say it to others I speak to. I couldn't be any happier.
This is the story of us telling our family we are going to have a baby.
I believe there's a fundamental difference between being anxious and having anxiety. I'm more anxious to be a father than anything I've experienced in my life, in a good way. With that comes more anxiety than I've ever experienced in my life, not necessarily in a good way. Learning to cope will be a struggle, but there's not many things more gratifying, calming, and ultimately rewarding than hearing your baby's heartbeat for the very first time.
One of the most exciting times of my life was finding out I was going to be a father. A close second? That would be telling our parents they are going to be grandparents. There were tears, excited shouting, and even a few expletives. We wouldn't have it any other way.
I'll be honest...I'd always imagined it differently. Where I grew up, there is a meticulous order you abide by in regards to the roadmap of your life. You go to school, hope to get into a good college, graduate, get a job, work, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after. I suddenly found myself in a situation where I thought I had everything I'd ever dreamed of wanting, but something was missing.