Current mood:	contemplative
Entry tags:	love family baby pregnancy son

To our son...
Dear Putt-Putt,

On 07.11.07, we found out you were a boy. There was a very long wait between the time when we arrived at the hospital and when we were finally appreciating your beauty. It was early and your grandmother had squeezed us in into a time slot that didn't actually exist.
You were 14 ounces and Lizz was concerned. You see, your mother had read that the average weight at 20 weeks was 10.5 ounces and your size made her nervous, but I'm sure you can understand why. You were beautiful.....head to toe. Four chambers of your heart beating in synchronicity, wiggling arms and legs; a vision of perfection in black & white.
The technician was attentive and responsive, he answered every question with grace and we appreciated his manner. At 20 weeks they measure everything - your abdomen, your femur...your heartbeat - it was all very technical and thorough.
Throughout the procedure, we held hands, your mother and I, and the words are lost, as I can't possibly tell you how important you already were to our blossoming family. You WERE the blossoming family.
Someday, you and I won't see eye to eye. It's inevitable. Fathers and sons...they become totally incompatible. One wants the other's appreciation and acceptance and the other wants the other to be a carbon copy of whom they think they really are. There will be discomfort and hearts ablaze with irrational thought and feeling....BUT, what I really want you to know, is that from the minute you were conceived I was there with you - to fight and destroy what would harm you; to carve and construct what would teach you; and to appreciate and love what would become of you.
Nothing should be treasured more than familial support, whether it be from blood or not. Everything is hard...even when we thing it easy. We pretend to know what's going on...but, in reality, we have no clue. Even the smartest people I know are besieged by uncertainty and clouded by doubt. All we have is each other...and all we need...as John Lennon said, is love.

Dearest son...that is what we are giving you - LOVE. One-hundred-freakin-pounds of it. We are gonna kick so much ass to try and give you the best we possibly can. We are gonna bend every corner, buy off every congressmen, break every law...all in order to afford you the best possible existence we can importune from whatever *this* is.

THIS...I promise you.
Until then...enjoy yourself. Wiggle around...grow....absorb. We'll be busy changing EVERYTHING to prepare for your arrival. Change is hard, but inevitable. Life is strange, but exciting. You are on your way...and we cannot freakin wait.

Love,
Dad (& Mom!)