Wednesday, April 4, 2012

The Birth of a Father

The imagery was familiar. I had seen both of my granddaughters hanging about the womb. Sydney peeked around her arm just teasing us. Gabby did her gymnastics long before she took her first breath. It was familiar....but not.

The monitor was smaller. I sat with my chin turned to the ceiling looking at the small screen above us. My son sat next to me. The technician explained each figure on the screen. First the sweet baby girl. A little hand waved at us. Her profile reminded me of Gabby. Our eyes were glued to the monitor continually looking for a clear view of her face. My son held his wife's hand. They both beamed. No one was looking at me, but I'm sure I was smiling as well.

He is a bigger baby. His nose is a little straighter than his sister's. He doesn't seem to care that we have come to call. He lays there looking at a hand that waves in front of his face. The sole of a small foot flashes onto the screen. Oh, my. I think he might have his father's feet.

When my son invited me to join them for the ultra sound, I was thrilled. It doesn't matter how many  grandchildren you have. Each is precious. It is all new with each baby. A new love blooms and grows when we first hold the new bundle.

My son posted a sweet picture of his little son. It is black with pale shades of white and deep black emphasizing his little feature. The sweet face looks slightly down and to the front. My son wrote, "Don't mean to be proud parent but love this picture of our son."

I love the picture of my son becoming a father. We parents know that there are no words to explain the love you have for your child. There are no words. We find in the birth of our children a new feeling we've never had before. His children were there on the screen. His wife held his hand, and they were family.

I watch my son and see the birth of a father.

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