Nothing I've written, or will ever write, can match to the beauty of this creation.

Whenever someone asked me if I were nervous or scared during Jyg’s pregnancy, I’d reply that I was rather stoic about it. Not that I wasn’t thrilled or happy with the fact, I just didn’t go through the usual Daddy-to-be jitters that plague most men. And I blamed my inability to feel the appropriate emotion for an event, life-changing or otherwise.

So when Jyg sent me a text late Wednesday night to tell me her mother was driving her to hospital, one would think I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at it. Instead, I felt my stomach drop. The tone she presented in the text messages, however, expressed one of doubt. It carried the possibility that this was all a false pregnancy – that I shouldn’t take the chance of missing a day of work when it wasn’t necessary.

Because I never know the right move, I asked her if she wanted me to meet her at the hospital. She, as was her wont, left it up to me. I weighed the issues. I weighed the possibility this was false labor. Shaun wasn’t due until the end of the month, making this nearly a month premature. Okay, calm down. I told her to keep me up to date about it all. She didn’t believe it was time, either. We could laugh about this in the morning.

Like I said, I’m a master at making the wrong choice.

I had that dream again

When I sleep stressing about anything, or thinking about anything, or knowing that the phone may or may not ring, I tend to sweat. I tend to pour out buckets. And what feels like hours of the outer edge of sleep is actually about an hour. A dream occurred within that short hour, one that I can vaguely remember. It ended with the phone ringing. And that’s when I realized wasn’t part of the dream.

Once I called her mother back – a number not found in my contact list is one of two things: Jyg’s in labor, or someone’s in trouble. I grabbed my clothes and was about to just drive there – as I do that now, sorta. But the tightness in my chest, the pounding in my ears, the inability to walk without losing my balance put out that flame.

Driving – per se – there was a horror. That tightness in my chest became from sheer panic. PANIC?! Eight months ago, I wasn’t panicking. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t anything but good times. And now eight years worth of panic birthed itself right inside my chest. To make matters worse, the worrying that Shaun was too early or there was something wrong with Jyg drove me into panic rev.

To top it off, every light we hit was red.

After all that

Shaun was born on April 5, 2012 at 5:28AM. He weighed 4lbs 11oz and measured 18 1/2 inches. Due to his weight, he was placed in NICU. He wasn’t taking to the nipple – natural and bottle – so he was fed from a tube. He’s taking to it, but hasn’t gotten it down just right. He’s working on it. There were moments of panic, but his birth was pretty quick considering the fact that it’s our first born.

The first time I held him was nearly a day later, as his mother and grandmother (her mom) hogged him right after his birth. It’s an amazing little feat.

It’s a strange feeling, feeling things. Knowing that this little guy is going to depend so much on me. That during my alone time with him, I was nearly in tears talking with him. The amount of emotion flooding through me is unspeakable, indescribable. The love I feel for him is immeasurable. I spoke to him about his family. His cousins. His aunts and uncles and grandmothers.  I told him his mother was just dying to see him and would be up there shortly when she got better – she wasn’t allowed to see him until her blood pressure dropped to normal.

I sat there, just staring at him, at the same time my mother walked into the room. She stood there for a moment, just watching me. I reminded her of a younger version of herself after giving birth to my older brother, Martin. Just staring at him in absolute wonder. He’s my first born, my son. A part of me flows forever in his body and will live on and on after I leave this world mentally – as my physical self never truly leaves, but that just ruins everything I just said.

So here’s to the next 18 years and the years after that. Because I, ladies and gentlemen, have achieve immortality. I have produced a child.

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