It was the second day of life for my second child. I was lying down on the “daddy cot” in my wife’s room at the hospital. My newborn child was lying on my chest, peacefully sleeping away the first hours of his life. A visitor was there and remarked, “these are the best days of Adam’s life.”
I have this terrible contrarian streak in me, so naturally my mind leapt into action. There I was, having a moment with my child, and someone suggests the child has it good? While this could be interpreted as a supreme compliment for yours truly, I was bound and determined to prove the contrarian position… if only to myself.
You watch your wife experience the worst pain of her life, completely helpless to do anything about it yourself, and the contrarian in you might be easily aroused too.
Anyway, back to the original topic, why was it this was the best time in Adam’s life? No responsibility? No worries? I’ll grant you that, but what about the helplessness? Do you normally get all worked up over something as simple as the need to go to the bathroom? Do you pitch a fit every time you get a little hungry? (No, that is not an invitation for comment, Cheryl.) That moment I had on the bed with my child, I didn’t have a care in the world. I knew the meaning of love and I sensed it from several sources, in several varieties. I knew the reassurance of independence and self-reliance. And on top of it all, in that moment with my second child, I didn’t have a care in the world. It was one of the best times of my life.
In short, there are times when I’ve got it pretty good too.