Just about the time that I had become content with not being a biological father (I have four step daughters, who when I married my wife, Cami, in August of 2009 were 20, 18, 16 and 14), I was getting ready to leave work for a four day Thanksgiving weekend where I – for once – had zero responsibilities and the whole four days off, when I got a text from my wife.
“I know something you don’t know.”
Needless to say, I was confused and figured that since she was an RN with years of experience and I was just a Radio Chat Show Host, it wasn’t unlikely that she knew lots of things that I don’t know.
The astute reader will recognize this simple plot device as the same as Lucy was using on Ricky all the way back on I Love Lucy, so I should have figured it out, but of course, I did not. Nor could I figure out any of her sideways hints when I got home until she basically had to blurt it out. At which point I was overwhelmed by three feelings:
(1) Stupidity for not seeing what she was saying
(2) Joy at the incredible news, and
(3) The strongest emotion of fear I have ever felt, including when my submarine tried to blow itself up.
What followed was nine months of confusion, irritation, worry and wonder capped by two moments. The first was when I got to see the first sonogram and hear Ben’s heart beating. I was amazed and entranced, and I watched the video over and over again for days.
The second was when I first held him. Because of circumstances, Cami had to stay in surgery for about an hour after he was born, so I took him through all the post birth checkups and baths and shots and whatnot. Eventually it was just he and I in the room waiting for Cami, so we had a time to bond and talk. Little did I know what a talker he would become.
And no, I have no idea where he gets it from.