Come and Gone

With a bit of fun, a year has come...and gone,

We bought our shelter, even added a little one.

With a little sun, despite fear overcome, tears sometimes shed, as the day was done.

But in the end, we always win...just two friends,

Who became more, who learned through the war,

Certain truths to be had, with each opened door. 

There's that soul of hers, and it completes mine,

Two long lost lovers, her heartbeat and mine. 

A father's song

I love the way you smile at me, so much wonderment and disbelief.
A half pint full little miracle, your eyes show me something lyrical.
So if you call me I'll be there
The comforting breeze through your hair.
Forever trying to get prepared
For my Lyric, you're a song I'll never share.

Date Night

I'd bet she feels the weakest, but I only see strength, when I'm being an asshole.
See it takes conviction to love somebody in their darkest hour, when they're acting out their worst fears.
My uncanny ability to fall down can only be  matched by the unselfish way she carries me.
As I push she pulls, creating harmony in our balance.
What a true unconditionalist, a martyr for the sake of love.
She feels alone I think, as I act alone, machismo soaring through my veins.
Why is it so hard for me to lay it down? Must I win a battle that only yields casualities?
Her style of victory is by stopping the blood, the fruit of my insecurities.
I can learn the world from this if I open my eyes, especially when my heart is unprotected.

Trust

     "But I need to be able to trust you,"  my wife begs of one of the children as I am upstairs with my thoughts.  Isn't that the bottom line, trust?  We ask it of our children, our spouses, our parents, coworkers, etc.  Hell, we even want this luxury from complete strangers.  What is it about trust that becomes our go-to for building a foundation?  I think it all boils down to exactly what it most often affords, a chance to catch our breaths.
     In case you forgot, I have four kids....and a dog, with three legs.  Life is busy.  It becomes more hectic every second that I can't trust my kids to act in just a remote version of what Hilary and I have screamed at them to be.  Its simple, give me the opportunity to walk into the other room and exhale, or cry depending on the case, and I will live long enough to cook your fucking waffle at sunrise. See, we spend so much time being stoic in front of our kids, fearing that they may find a hint of weakness, that we forget to breathe a lot of times.  We need to breathe, to be fresh, when entering each whirlwind that the kids create. Trust is important between a man and wife as well.
     Lately Hilary and I have been tested by the ghost (so to speak) of my ex-wife.  She shouldn't matter but she does. We have to work so closely together that it's maddening, and that alone becomes a wedge.  Not to mention my wife's fear that my increased attention given to my ex is for more than our son. I wish she knew how much she is my world, one where my ex wife doesn't exist, a safe place  that will always be there. My rock, my best friend, my plus one forever.  She doesn't always know this but she trusts. She trusts in the two of us, not necessarily us as individuals, but together. Together we trust. Together we know. Together we believe. So that my friends,  makes me exhale.

Anxiety...I'm A Passenger

     Times became rather anxious for Hilary and I since my last post.   If you didn't know, being pregnant has an ability to weigh on an expectant mother in the later weeks.  Hilary was too hot, too big, too tired, and too short on patience.  So was I for the most part.  Ever since our car accident in May, we have been to the hospital absolutely too many times.  Some times for safety's sake and some for curiosity's sake, we drove back and forth, trying to be good and ready in case Lyric arrived.  This was exhausting. We were mentally and physically bent to the brink, somehow still managing to get up each day.  I know that sounds extreme but anyone who has been in this situation will understand.  Waiting becomes what you live and breathe and most of that is done through a sigh. It's a true lesson in patience and faith.  I guess we weren't ready, or so the universe believed.  We were merely passengers aboard the fastest ride of our lives, suddenly thrust into slow motion. Just as we took a moment to relax, time sped up and our daughter was born unto this earth.
     It was honestly just another day, the one coincidentally right before a hard-fought, planned induction. Hilary didn't want to induce, yet she was 41 weeks, and completely done with the worrying.  I respected that.  Anyway, after her 7 hours of reserved belief that it was "go time," Hilary sent the SOS to my cellphone.  That was it, I was leaving work to have a baby.  I raced home.
     There was no time to waste as I jumped into the shower to rinse off the sweat.  Five minutes later we were on our way to the Midwifery Office.  It was uneventful.  Told to "go for a walk, eat some dinner" we headed downtown to the place we first met, Carolina Ale House.  Aprepos.  We had a forced dinner with a healthy side of painful contractions before finally getting the green light to head for the hospital.  I don't know about Hilary but I was nervous. Perhaps just anxious....after all this was the moment we had waited for.
     Once we arrived at the hospital, we found out that the waiting wasn't over. The Family Birthplace was busting at the seams with mothers in labor.  We had to wait in line at the business office only to wait in line for a room.  It was like a popular restaurant trying to survive the lunchtime rush.  I heard later on that we got the last available room and that that it was so busy that a mother even had to deliver in the hallway. Luckily, after what seemed like an eternity, we ended up in Labor and Delivery Room 1.
     When we entered the room I was greeted by an inflatable tub, about the size of a hot tub, sitting in the middle of the familiar labor suite.  There was a hose running from the bathroom into the tub, filling it with what felt like really comfortable water.  This was different but somehow really relaxing.  I thought about the water helping Hilary endure the increasing painful contractions and felt a sense of peace.  This was short lived though as my thoughts were interrupted by my wife calling my name with pain in her voice.
     All I could do is hold her through the contractions, which were coming every 3 or 4 minutes.  I felt so helpless I remember, holding her through the agony yet unable to ease it.  That's a very hard thing to swallow as a man, or maybe just as a human.  If we are programmed correctly, empathy is an emotion that we all possess.  Watching her struggle through pain I could never feel nor imagine was unbearable.  I prayed that it would be quick and easy, if there were such a thing.
    The longer the contractions went the harder it became for Hilary to make it through them.  I think we were both ready for some medicinal help, even though it wasn't in the original birth plan.  My biggest concern was that there wasn't enough time, but looking into her eyes as she suffered, I wasn't ruling anything out.  Just as she was about to cave, the Midwife delivered the okay for her to get into the warm tub for comfort.  This was a huge relief to me.  After all, I was grasping at straws here.
     The midwife knew just what to do, whether it was delivering some words of much needed encouragement or simply sending me a comforting glance, Barb was amazing.  Meanwhile, there was an ebb and a flow to the whole event that rendered me helpless.  As the contractions came and (gladly) went, there was still that anxious certainty that the pain would be back.  There was truly no way around it, this was going to test Hilary and hurt her.  It was going to deliver my love to the breaking point , and refuse to give up.  She had no choice in the matter, there was no white flag....she was going to have to survive the night.  These were the dramatic thoughts that spun in my head and shook me to the bones.  There wasn't anything anyone could do to stop the ride, we were merely passengers.  In the end, Hilary was phenomenal.
     I watched my wife moan over and over, in rhythmic certainty, as my only support offering became holding her hands tightly as she groaned and writhed in agony.  Even though I was helpless, the midwife and nurse were flitting around the room, preparing it and gathering necessary items to welcome Lyric into the world.  Better them than me.
     The tension began to mount and there was a great deal of screaming and after a puff of smoke in the water, Lyric rose to the surface.  This is exactly how I remember it. No clever metaphor, no fancy words, just a split second where the world stopped long enough for me to catch my breath....and witness life.   I learned one thing for sure, when you have your first child you are positive that your life has just changed forever.  But when you have your second, it somehow engraves an equivalent moment into your soul.  We are so fortunate to be able to live two or more miracles in a lifetime.  I now know just how much. 

     
     
    
    

Lyrical Poetry

     Aside from its well known definition as the words to a song, Lyric can be used as an adjective to describe a form of poetry that expresses the writer's deepest emotions. I find this to be a lovely name for a little girl.
     We are 29 weeks into the pregnancy today and all is well.  Hilary's check-ups go routinely perfect and the two of us feel like old pros at this baby-making thing.  I'm almost certain that this feeling will change once the labor starts, especially if we are forced to throw our Birth Plan out of the proverbial window.  I learned that the first time around as my ex and I had to settle for an unplanned C-section. I'm praying that won't happen, but I know very well that sometimes things don't go according to plan.  Hilary wants to have a smooth labor and natural delivery like she did with her 2nd child Avery and I want only what she wants. That is our only plan, just like every other awaiting mother and father. I'm excited yet very nervous to see a normal, natural delivery.  I know that I can handle it but I have no idea what to expect.  It's this aspect that makes me feel like a first-time father again, and that's very exhilarating.  I don't have any idea how to be supportive to a woman going through such a feat.  The thought of it being me scares me to death so I guess I'll just take that feeling and go from there.  Hilary is strong though and even if I didn't already know that she had been through it twice, I would be 100% sure that she could do it. I'm just hoping that when the time comes that it's not her that has to do all of the supporting. That's a joke, I think.

Going to the Chapel

     Believe it or not, there was a time in my life when I honestly didn't think I would get married. Lo and behold, it happened to me at the ripe age of 30. More surprising is that here I sit at age 37, about to do it again. Yes, a date has been set for Hilary and me. On May 1st the two of us will become husband and wife.  We've chosen to do it in a courthouse, with a backyard reception of friends and family in the near future. "'Cause we've been there before, and we're never going back again, not again."  I'm not referring to a big wedding when I say this, I'm speaking of a successful marriage. Unhappiness is not an option.  This is a new life indeed.
     Some may be amazed that it's happened so quickly, but not to those the closest to us.  That day in Carolina Ale House something happened in two people's lives that couldn't be predicted, nor reproduced.  Hilary and I went from hurt people to whole people, and that's precisely where I feel we still are today. We are parents, we are individuals, and we are a team. Through the thick and the thin, I trust her with all that I have.  After all, this woman carries my baby while positively affecting my own son's life.  She is a strong woman... a rock in the wake of tempestuous noise.  Her children are my own, and mine is hers....we've built a strong family from a simple stack of wood.  I never would've thought all of this possible that day in Ale, not in a million years. But, one thing remains constant and I learned it on Day 1 with Hilary.  In this bubble, there lies two souls with potential.  Two that have been hurt and have gotten back up, two that want the same things in a relationship and also in a family, and two that haven't given up on fate nor love.  That was the magnetic attraction to her that night.  She made me feel hope, she made me feel alive.  Now I sit here, with a woman I love in the next room, and our children upstairs asleep....as I look around a house that we've just bought, in a town that we love. And it makes me wonder, where will this ride take me next?