It Didn’t Matter Until it Really Mattered

About a year ago, my wife began dropping hints about starting a family. While we agreed before marriage that we both wanted children, we never discussed exactly when. Turned out, my thinking was more “anytime before the apocalypse would be fine” while she was more “let’s conceive yesterday”.

I had mixed emotions. I wasn’t comfortable with our financial position, inasmuch as my savings account was more or less a figment of my imagination, and we lived in New York City, where the cost of living is “all you make plus 25%”. The idea of bringing a new life into our already stressful scenario didn’t appeal to me.

On the other hand, I’m already in my mid-forties. I’m supposed to be in a hurry to have children at this point. Do I really want to be giving horsey rides at 55? Do I really want to attend college graduations wearing adult diapers?

I asked myself: Why don’t I feel rushed? Why doesn’t it matter?

We agreed that we’d stop using any kind of birth control, and just let fate decide. For the first few months, I’d occasionally see Evi leave our bathroom with a pregnancy test in her hand and a sad expression on her face. I’d reassure her that “it’ll be fine”and “it’ll happen when it’s meant to happen”. Then she’d sit and ponder for a while and I’d completely forget whatever the hell we were just talking about and play Clash of Clans.

Pregnancy didn’t matter to me at that point. I guess I was more concerned about our financial future, and–this is total male thought process–I’ll begin thinking about a baby when we, you know, actually have one.

I’ll never forget the day we found out. We had just moved to Florida, and Evi asked me to take her to a dollar store to get a cheap pregnancy test. I rolled my eyes (not so she could see; I value my testicles) and said “sure”. As soon as we got home she took the test. Despite me being in the bedroom, before she even left the bathroom, I knew. I heard the toilet being flushed more forcefully. The toilet seat cover was slammed down. The bathroom door was opened so fast I could hear the wind it created. There was no doubt.

“Baby!” she exclaimed as she rushed into the bedroom. “We’re pregnant!”

We hugged in celebration for a while.

Then I went back to whatever I was doing.

We didn’t see a doctor for nearly two months after conception, which I guess is pretty normal. During that time, the baby just didn’t seem real to me. Evi would get upset when I’d offer her alcohol of some type, owing to my complete lack of ability to remember she’s pregnant.

“What is wrong with you? Do you want to kill our child?”

“I”m sorry, I’m sorry,” I’d say. “I just forgot for a moment, I guess.”

“How can you forget?”

“It doesn’t matter until it’s born,” I wanted to say. But again, my testicles.

When we went to the first OB/GYN appointment for a sonogram, that’s when things changed. On that screen, I saw the beginnings of a new life. I saw the future. I saw hopes and dreams.

“It looks like a peanut,” I said.

I made a joke, but I have to admit, my eyes watered a little.

***

It’s amazing how much my feelings have changed over the last few months. Early on in the process, Evi would show concern about whether the fetus would make it to term, and I’d be worried as well, but only because of Evi’s emotional state. I knew if anything bad happened, she would be crushed. I didn’t feel anything towards the baby itself.

Since then, the baby has been sonogrammed two more times, we’ve learned she’s a girl, and I’ve felt her kick. That baby has become the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep. I’ll annoy Evi with questions like, “Are you putting enough protein in our baby? Are you sure you should be laying like that? Is all that fruit you eat good for the baby?”

The other day, Evi said that she hadn’t felt the baby kick for about an entire morning. I didn’t say anything, but inside I freaked out. It’s amazing to me that in the course of a few months I went from “meh” to “OH MY GOD PLEASE DON’T DIE I’VE ALREADY FANTASIZED ABOUT YOUR COLLEGE GRADUATION”.

Luckily, soon thereafter the baby started kicking.

I guess I’ve fallen in love with her. I guess it really matters now.

Maybe I’ll invite my wife to celebrate with a drink.