• Something Lost

    Your mother wasn’t feeling well last night or this morning, so we called her doctor. The pain was worrisome but not unbearable. The doctor took us right in this morning and gave your mother an ultrasound to see how you were doing.

    I have no medical training, but I knew enough looking at the monitor to know we will never get the chance to meet.

    I noticed the nurse wasn’t saying anything, and I got the sense it was deliberate. Your mother was looking at the screen too, but I couldn’t tell if she knew what I knew, and I was no better than the nurse. If your mom had looked at either of us she would have known right away.

    So now we’ve lost you before we ever had you, and my soul is filled with sorrow at the loss. Even though you were never born, the idea of you is three months old, and your loss has struck me more than I would have thought. My only memories of you are made up, fantasies of what you could have been like. We’ll never get to make real ones. I’ll never get to look into your eyes and see some of myself in you. I’ll never get to look upon your face and see some of your mother in you. I’ll never get to see you play with your older sister. I’ll never get to share my love with my second child. One day we’ll probably have another, and maybe by then I’ll have recovered from your loss. People will refer to that child as our second child, and I might too; but it’s hard to imagine now. I’m so sorry.

    Love,
    Dad

  • Wednesday is the big day.

    Beth starts kindergarten today (Wednesday). On Tuesday we went to orientation with her, and a funny thing happened. All this week Beth has been a little unsure of the whole kindergarten thing. On Monday, her last regular day in her pre-k class, she was sent in with the “school age” class, since she would be one of them in 48 hours anyway. When I picked her up, she was a little traumatized by the experience. ” “Why can’t I stay in Ms. Cindy’s class daddy?” What do I say? Then, on the day of orientation, we are talking to one of the secretaries in the school office, and the individual addresses Beth, “so, how do you feel about starting kindergarten Beth?” “I’m scared”, she replied in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. So we’re sitting in the cafeteria on Tuesday with all of the other parents and kids and the principle announces that the teachers will be calling out their student’s names, and the kids are supposed to walk to the front so they can go see the classrooms with their new class. This is all supposed to happen sans parents. Sensing Beth’s unease earlier that day and the previous week, I was prepared for a look of betrayal in Beth’s eyes when the time came for her to walk off without us. Then it happened, they called her name. Cheryl turned around and said to Beth, “that’s it, it’s your turn to go up.” Without hesitation, Beth popped up and confidently trotted up to the front of the cafeteria and off to her class in the other room. I had mixed emotions. On the one hand I was glad that she was not too scared. On the other hand, it was almost a disappointment to not be needed. Beth is all of five years old, so there will be plenty of opportunities to be needed. But, the first crack in the wall of her dependence has appeared, and they only get bigger. Of course, our goal as parents is to raise her to be an independent, happy, wise, and caring person. Today I got my first glimpse of what that will really mean. It’s one thing to know it, it’s another to live it. It should be an interesting ride.

  • Working, who’s working?

    I went into last week expecting nothing out of the ordinary. By the end of the week, I had done little in the ordinary. Most of my time was spent working on ways to get more work done in less time. The irony was that I did not get much work done, but I hope the fruit of my efforts change that next week. I was just a little tired of blaming others that our office can’t accomplish what needs accomplishing. “We’re underfunded…We need more staff…If the computer system wasn’t so inefficient…” and so on. So, I spent my time trying out computer solutions to our tasks. Why should I continue to be a human “macro” when I could set some things up to take myself out of some of the equation? We’ll see how it works out this week. I have high hopes.