Stuck, but not by you...

Dear son,

Tomorrow we learn if your mother has gestational diabetes, which I doubt she does. Let's just hope that they were able to conduct their tests accurately and can answer definitively, lest your mom was stuck in the hand for naught.

Speaking of getting stuck, I went to my accupuncturist today. I was very uncomfortable (sore and stiff from working out for the first time since Thanksgiving) and he stuck me with eight needles in the back after working me over with some deep-tissue massage type of stuff. The Chinese philosophy of medicine is quite effective.

Love,
Dad

Nice seeing you...

Dear son,

Today your mom and I went to the OB/GYN for gestational diabetes testing. Your mom drank an orange sugar drink, then we went to the doctor's office. This time we met Dr. Henry. He looked pretty young, but he was very nice and he had kind eyes. To me, stuff like that is important; you can tell a lot about a person by his or her eyes. He asked some routine questions and then hit you with the ultrasound. Everything looked fine. I saw your face for a split second, and I swear you looked exactly like my father. The doctor also told us you're currently in a breech position, but it's nothing to worry about at this stage. I'm not worried about that too much (which is unusual for me) because I've seen how active you are. You're doing somersaults all day, I'll bet.

Then a nurse came and tried to take some of your mother's blood. She couldn't get a vein. Another nurse came, and she couldn't get a vein, either. Finally, the second nurse had to draw blood from your mother's hand, which is more painful, but your mother suggested it herself since there was some kind of timing issue with the sugar drink in her bloodstream. I don't know why your mom has such hard to find veins, but she's had them for a while, apparently, so she already knew about the hand trick, luckily.

Love,
Dad

More turkey...

Dear son,

Today was the second day after Thanksgiving, and it started off with me in a real good mood (in which I remained, I'll have you know) but with really lousy weather. It was raining like crazy. My father would say, "It was raining like it had never rained before." (It sounds nicer in Greek.) I drove us out to your granny's house to deliver some specially prepared Kalamata olives from your yaya that were well received. Then, surprise, we ate some more turkey. I ate the most food of all, as usual, but tomorrow I'm going to go back into training. Also, tomorrow we'll be going to see Dr. Headley's partner to check you out and make sure your mom isn't developing gestational diabetes, which I personally don't think is likely, since your mom has amazing health in general. See you tomorrow, literally.

Love,
Dad

Home is...

Dear son,

We're home again. Your grandparents (on my side) are so kind and generous and loving, and they drive me crazy. That doesn't mean they don't love me, or I them. It just means that people are people and they often butt heads. That's just nature. Conflict is inherent in all families, but they're still good to have.

Love,
Dad

A lesson...

Dear son,

When you're older you may notice that sometimes things don't go your way, or people don't behave the way you'd like them to. It's a hard fact of life, and I hope you don't have to face it too often. But when you do, keep in mind that everything is only temporary, and don't dwell on things for long once they're in the past. When you make a mistake, try to learn from it so you won't repeat it, but never punish yourself for it. And lastly, don't beat yourself up over whatever feelings or thought or emotions you experience in life; they're beyond your control; but your actions are not, so don't waste too much energy regretting mistakes or feeling sorry for yourself.

Love,
Dad

Feeling well fed, little dude...?

Dear son,

Today you experienced the first Thanksgiving in your existence, albeit while still in your mother's belly. You sure do like to kick up a storm after she eats. Maybe you'll grow up and be a foodie like your aunt Erin, who's also a chef. I ate a lot, too. It's kind of scary how much I can pound the food, even when I'm not that hungry. The thing is your ya-ya is a pretty good cook, and her food is pretty hard to resist. I also gorged myself on a bunch of candies and cakes, too. Forgive me, my son.

Love,

Dad

Bugwatchin'

Today we drove around Newington, New Hampshire, and Kittery, Maine. Your mom got some maternity stuff at Old Navy, I got a fleece jacket. Then we went to the Timberland outlet and I got some workboots there at huge savings. Then we went to the Fox Run Mall, where there was this store that your mother saw a lot of interestint stuff at, but the salesgirl had a cough lke Typhoid Mary, so your mom bolted, which was exactly the right thing to do, being pregnant with you and this time of year being cold and flu season. Later, we visited my old friend Keith and met his kids, who were very sweet and smart. Unfortunately, Keith’s getting divorced, so his kids are going to have a bit of rough time growing up. So far I think they’re doing okay, so let’s hope it continues. Keith’s little girl said she’s going to teach you to read, which I thought was a nice offer, but I don’t consider it likely, frankly.

Neato movie...

Dear son,

Tonight your mom saw this movie called The Incredibles. It was an animated movie that was like a real movie with real actors, if you know what I mean. It was a lot of fun, even though your mom thought it was a little lengthy.

Today we also took your grandmother, or "ya-ya," down to Boston for her semi-annual checkup at New England Medical Center. See, a few years ago, she was really, really sick and needed a lot of help from the specialists in Boston, who basically saved her life. So I take her back every six months for a followup, just to make sure everything is still going okay, and thank goodness it is, because she's very eager to make your acquaintance.

Love,
Dad

Here we are in New Hampshire...

Dear son,

Thanks for putting a word or two in with the man upstairs, who allowed us to leave the Mohegan Sun casino today a little bit ahead for a change. It's a strange and unfamiliar feeling!

Your mom was just saying how active you were just now. That's probably because your mom just had a nice dinner at my parents' house, a nice well-balanced meal that's making you jump and shiver with delight. Hearing these stories makes me jump and shiver with delight.

Love,
Dad

How 'bout a little help...?

Dear son,

Your mom and I are at the Foxwoods casino in Connecticut. I lost a hundred bucks. Since babies are in contact with the infinite and the Almighty till they're born, how about sending your mom or me some kind of dream numbers to play in roulette or something? Or how about helping us get lucky on some slots? Just kidding; you don't have to do anything. Unless you want to.

Tomorrow we're going to New Hampshire, where my parents live. I'm sure they're going to make a fuss over you and your mom. Prepare yourself for some really good eats. There goes my diet. We'll also be seeing my old friend Keith sometime this week. He needs help the most, I guess, so maybe you could put a word in for him.

Love,
Dad

Just like your old man...

Dear son,

This afternoon your mother was telling me how active you became in her belly after she ate some pears. She's been on a real pear kick lately; she's crazy about them. She was saying you kick a lot after she eats something sweet. I think you get that from me. I'm a madman for sugar. I've got a real sweet tooth. When presented with candy I have the tendency to wolf it down, barely tasting it. I can do okay when there's none around; I can live without it. But if there's some around I have to eat it. Nobody else in our family seems to feel that way toward sweets, so maybe you won't either. Although the way your mom says you kick after she eats something sweet makes me wonder. Eh, it's all a matter of diet, environment, and upbringing anyway. Don't worry; I won't let you have too much--or worse, too little.

Love,
Dad

Drained...

Dear son,

I don't mean to bore you with constant stories of how tired I am, but it's true. I think it's all the carbs and sugars I've recently stuffed down my gob. This morning I was beat.

Your mom was worried a little bit about your lack of activity, but you came around later. I'm thinking you might be a night person. She called me over at one point to feel a sudden flurry of activity on your part. It was pretty cool, and unmistakable. I spoke to you, called your name, and you responded with a couple of strong movements. That is just so cool!

Love,
Dad

Thick, creamery blood...

Dear son,

I went to the doctor today for a follow-up visit. About a month ago I had a physical. This morning I finally went in to see what was what. Everything was fine, the doctor told me, except for my cholesterol, which the doc pointed out was higher than Bill Clinton's. (At the time of this writing, Clinton had recently had heart bypass surgery because his arteries were so clogged.) So the doctor advised me to start taking the statin medication Lipitor and one baby aspirin a day. What strikes me as unfair about this situation is that both my parents' cholesterol levels are off the chart, which means that I get the benefit of receiving a high-cholesterol gene from both of them. I don't smoke. I exercise. I try to watch what I eat. But my genes predispose me to having high cholesterol. Luckily for you you're getting some nice mutt blood from your mother's side of the family. By "mutt" I mean her blood make-up isn't so purebreed as my own. Purebreeds tend to manifest problematic genes much more blatantly. Not so with the lovable ol' mutts.

Yesterday your mom was stressed a lot about work stuff, and it really wiped her out. This morning I advised her to try to relax her tendency to control all things by just one item, and when she came home tonight she was in a much better mood because she tried my advice. She's a tiny bit worried because she's not feeling you kick a lot, but I'm thinking you're just resting a lot in preparation for your big growth spurt as a fetus. I think you're okay, but I feel I must apologize for any bad genes from my side of the family. If it's any consolation, I didn't want 'em either.

Love,
Dad

Play ball...

Dear son,

I was killing some time at a Target store earlier today, and I saw a bunch of baseball gloves. I wondered if you would be into playing baseball, wondered what it would be like to play catch with you when you're a little older. There's all sorts of cool gloves available, and bats even have a sizing chart. Maybe you'll inherit my hatred for the New York Yankees. I predict that physically you'll be a very good athlete. Whether you want to play will be left mostly up to you. My father and I never played anything together, really, and that's a shame, but he didn't encourage me to do much of anything. And take my word for it, when you're a kid, you need lots of encouragement. In fairness to my father, though, he had it tough; he's an immigrant, you see, and had to work hard all his life, so he didn't have much time or energy for luxuries like playing sports, or even watching them, except for professional wrestling, which much to my embarrassment, both my parents are nuts about. Nuts, I tell you.

Love,
Dad

Dad's day...

Dear son,

Today was my birthday. Your mom got me a lot of nice stuff, as did both sets of your grandparents, and your aunts Sarah and Erin. Your uncle Matt at least gave me a phone call, but as usual, your uncle Jonathan gave me his traditional gift of nothing. Ah, well, what can you do? Just hope for the best loot you can get, I guess, or something that took a lot of time or trouble that means a lot. Just be thankful on your birthday for the same gifts you should be thankful for everyday: your health and safety, and the health and safety of those closest to you, and the love of your family, and yours for them.

Love,
Dad

The day after...

Dear son,

Well, actually, it's the day after the day after of your grand-aunt Bibs's memorial and your aunt Erin's fortieth birthday party. Your mom and I still feel wiped out for some reason, maybe it's because we're getting older, or maybe it's because the weather is so inconsistent. It was very cold this weekend, but today was quite mild. You didn't seem to do much today, so I guess you were just chilling also.

Love,
Dad

Good to be back...

Dear son,

I must be brief because I'm faintingly tired. We went to your aunt Erin's party last night. She looked great, but everybody was in a foul mood--except for your old man, who simply decided not to be. It was crowded and noisy and the food was mediocre. But so many people told your mom she looked so beautiful, so radiant, being pregnant, and that made me proud and happy. When we finally left and came back to Hoboken we were dead tired and slept not nearly long enough--which is what I must do now!

Love,
Dad

Home, but only briefly...

Dear son,

Boy, your mom's got me running around this weekend. Yesterday to Vermont, today back from Vermont to Hoboken, but only for a while, and shortly out to your grandparents' and then to Pennsylvania. No time to chill out much, either. Your uncle Dennis asked me to copy some disks for him and your mom asked me to get her dry cleaning...no time for your poor ol' dad. Anyway, a lot of people ogled and "ahh'd" over your ultrasound pictures this weekend, so you were quite the little star. Everybody can't wait for you to be born. Kid, I hope you've always wanted to be part of a large family!

Love,
Dad

Greetings from Vermont...

Dear son,

Well, we're in Vermont right now. The day is finally done, your mother's aunt's memorial service is over, we've completed all our familial obligations, and now your mom and I are crashing in a Marriott hotel for the night. Your grandmother was just here a few minutes ago, watching something with your mom about Scott Peterson, the guy who was convicted of killing his wife Laci. It was sad to see your cousins and know how much they must be missing their mom. But they have a lot of family to draw strength from, so that's a big comfort. Tomorrow, we get up early and fly back to Newark, drive to Hoboken, then go to your aunt Erin's. Sheesh. I hate travel!

Love,
Dad

A trip to Vermont...

Dear son,

Tomorrow, your mother and I and your uncle Matt and your aunt Erin will fly to Vermont to attend the memorial service of your mother's aunt Bibs. Her real name was Barbara; how she got nicknamed Bibs I don't know. Since she was your grandfather's sister on your mother's side (did I express that correctly?), I guess that would make her your grand-aunt, if there is such a thing. Your mom doesn't think Bibs liked her very much, but I don't think that's true. She was a nice lady with very firm opinions about...pretty much everything. She had three daughters, and she raised them all by herself, since her husband died shortly after their last was born. That couldn't have been easy, but she was very smart and made a lot of money. She died very quickly of lung cancer, but she did get to attend the wedding of one of her daughters and to see her first grandchild, your cousin Francesca. I know that's a lot of names to be throwing at you, and at the time of this writing, you don't even know your own yet. So, anyway, tomorrow, we're going up to Vermont, coming back the next day, and then heading out to Pennsylvania for your aunt Erin's fortieth birthday. I'm trying to look forward to it.

Love,
Dad

Winter's coming...

Dear son,

It's late fall, almost winter, and for me, to be blunt, that sucks. I hope you don't inherit my abhorence of the cold and dark of winter. They depress the heck out of me. Your mom, bless her, doesn't seem to mind, but she's got a greater constitution than I do. I hope you inherit her amazing physical vitality. You'll be lucky if you do. You'll be lucky if you take after your mom in any way; she's pretty wonderful and rarely a pain.

Love,
Dad

Briefly...

Dear son,

Your mom says you're getting bigger and kicking harder. I think that's just wonderful. She also went through some scary what-if? scenarios. What if little Nicky can't blahblahblah? Suppose little Nicky has blahblahlah? What if little Nicky doesn't blahblahblah? That wasn't so great. Pretty scary, actually. But I think your arrival will be perfect and having you in our lives will be a blessing.

Love,

Dad

Friendship...

Dear son,

I was just speaking to my oldest and dearest friend, Keith. It's been years, I think, since I've spoken to him, and yet it was like hardly any time had passed at all. There was none of that awkwardness, that inchoate sense of discomfort that occurs sometimes when old friends discover their friendship hasn't followed them through the years, and I was very glad of it. It's the mark of true friendship, and true friendship is very rare. Unfortunately, he has bad tidings: he's getting divorced. It came as a very great shock to me, but apparently he and his wife had been unhappy for a long time. That makes me sad, but people come in and out of each other's lives all the time, and I suppose that's the nature of things. But consider yourself lucky when you find a friend who accepts you for who you are, and whom you can accept the same way. Good friends don't come along very often.

I love you.

--Dad

Sunday night blahs...

Dear son,

You seem to kick more after a meal. This morning I made some eggs for your mom with mushrooms, chives, and Gruyere cheese. She liked them a lot and said you felt quite active, implying that you liked them, too. I hope you're not a picky eater. I kind of was when I was a kid, and your mom didn't really have the luxury of being a picky eater, so we'll see about you.

I love you.

--Dad

An okay day...

Dear son,

I'm very happy with your development so far. It seems to me that you respond to the sound of my voice. I like to put my hand on your mother's belly and speak to you and feel you kick around. It's very exciting and fascinating, and it makes me wonder if things make you smile or frown while you're in there. I also wonder what if anything is going through your sweet baby brain. You've never seen a single thing in the world to create memories or associations with yet. You're a beautiful blank slate. Do you dream? Do you contemplate the infinite?

On a more mundane level, I've still been feeling kind of poorly today, but better now. Your mom had kind of a hard time sleeping last night, which I'm afraid to say is due mostly to you, young man. It's all the changing hormones, I guess, plus it's Nature's way of getting us ready for those two a.m. feedings. So thanks a lot for that. But your mom worked pretty hard today so she's really tired but also reasonably well fed, which usually translates into a good night's sleep for her, and consequently me as well. And that shows us God's mercy, because I can function fairly decently without any sleep, but if I have a little sleep that is disturbed, I feel like an alien observer on a different planet the next day. People are funny, as you'll find out. Good night!

I love you.

--Dad

Under the weather...

Dear son,

Sorry to so brief. I'm not feeling too well. I've slept poorly the past couple nights, and I've got real bad heartburn. Hope all is well with you.

I love you.

--Dad

It's all good, baby...

Dear son,

Today was a little better than yesterday, I guess. I tried harder to feel good. The day got off to a rocky start because your grandmother called your mom and tried to make her feel bad about who she voted for the other day. Your mother's mother is a reasonably nice lady, but her politics are completely unreasonable. They are naive, ignorant yet arrogant, and they are dangerous. Deep down I think her unconscious mind perceives there's something wrong with her politics but cannot identify or articulate it.

I knew your mom would be feeling bad, so I sent her a little email at work to make her feel better, and her mom left her a voicemail, apologizing. Your mom was also worried because she couldn't feel you kicking around much yesterday, but you were pretty active today. So three things happened that made your mom happy, and you were probably the biggest contributor.

I love you.

--Dad

This is our America...

Dear son,

The party of the Enemy has inveigled another four years to turn back the rights of individuals and press forward the might of large corporations. I wish I had better news for you today, but that's it. Maybe by the time you read this, such transgressions against American freedoms will be unthinkable. Here's hoping.

I love you.

--Dad

Zero hour...

Dear son,

Forgive the brevity of this message. I'm watching the destiny of the next twenty years unfold. I'm praying--literally praying--for my candidate to win. I hope you arrive in what is still the land of the free and the home of the brave.

I love you.

--Dad

So far, so good...

Dear son,

Today your mom went to see Dr. Headley by herself. I didn't go with her this time. Usually I do. But this time your mother said I didn't have to. I think she said it as a kind of test, to see if I would insist on coming with her. I'm not sure she meant it as a test, mind you, but I sort of don't like being tested, so I sat this visit out. It was a routine checkup, and we had just been to the hospital on Friday for the twenty-week scan, so it was nothing major. But now I wish I had gone. I don't want your mother to ever think we're not in this together.

Today is the eve of the 2004 presidential election. Tomorrow they're predicting record voter turnout. This is the most significant election I've ever participated in. Many in the media are saying it's the most significant election ever. Our country is really split into two totally passionate camps, those who favor the incumbent and those who favor the challenger, and neither camp is going to go down without a fight. I'm excited and nervous. The next few days could be great or they could be awful. Right now you've got it pretty good, though. I bet you're not too concerned with anything else but just floating and growing.

I love you.

--Dad