Would you believe it...?

Dear Nicky,

We're still waiting for those test results to come back. It's amazing that one hospital could mess up with the same two people again. We went from anxiety, to terror, to rage, to an eerie calm, which we finally realized was due to God, since your mom and I felt it wrap around us like a warm blanket at exactly the same time in exactly the same way. God granted us grace. He's watching over us, he's watching over you. Your mom's gotten especially protective of you lately. You're lucky. She's a tiger. And she loves you so much. She calls you a little fighter. You're an active and strong little guy. We're lucky to have a great kid like you on the way.

Love,
Dad

Go time...!

My dear Nicky,

Tomorrow, hopefully, we'll find out whether you have Down syndrome or not. I pray pray pray that you do not, not because I'm the least concerned over what it'll mean to me or that it could affect how much I love you, but because I want you to have every advantage possibly available to you. I've loved you from the moment I saw your heartbeat on an ultrasound, fluttering like a hummingbird's, you see, and I want you to thrive and excel in your life and be healthy and happy as often as possible. A father doesn't want his son to struggle with things that others do not. I don't want you to suffer any pain or difficulty based on the ignorance or prejudices of stupid people. No matter what the outcome, I will love you, forever and unfailingly, with all my heart.

God keep you,
Your father

Are you well...?

Dear Nicky,

How are you doing today? We stuck a big needle in your amnionic sack yesterday. I hope it wasn't very traumatic for you. Your mom and I are also experiencing some trauma, as you know. Today seemed a little better than yesterday, or maybe I'm just more numb. Your aunts Erin and Sarah came over to be with us, your mom mostly. It was nice of them, I guess. They didn't really bother with me very much at all, but your mom was glad to see them, and that makes me happy.

We're so afraid, Nick. All we can do is wait.

I love you,
Dad

The rug goes out from under me...

My dear son, my sweet boy,

Is this truly how it's going to be? I simply can't believe it. Is your heart truly defective? Are your femurs truly short? Does this truly add up to Down's syndrome? Eight and a half months into your gestation and only now is something gone awry in what was called a "textbook perfect" pregnancy, only now trouble is detected? Perhaps I'm in denial. Perhaps we're being tested. I cannot say. I'm so afraid, and yet I cannot believe my worst fears will come to pass. It just doesn't make sense. How could this be happening? Your mother is so healthy, she's been taking such good care of herself, her blood tests were better than average. My little boy, that this disadvantage should be yours...If I could bear this burden for you, know that I would, gladly. Please surprise us.

I love and pray for you,
Your father

Pull it together...

Dear Nicky,

We're really worried, your mother especially, about you. I was on jury duty today when she went to the hospital to have your leg development checked on ultrasound. On top of the giant sundae of worry about you, I have a bright red cherry of guilt over not being with your mother. The prognosis was not very reassuring, particularly when the doctor said we need to have an echocardiogram performed on you to check your heart for any malformation. She's been distraught ever since. So what I need from you, young man, is for you to talk to God, so the two of you can pull it together. I want a completely normal EKG and normal leg development. I want your mother reassured and at peace. She deserves it, and so do I. All we want is for you to be a normal, healthy, happy baby. I don't think that even comes close to being too much to ask for.

Love,
Dad

Just a little worried...

Dear son,

While I was serving jury duty today, your mom had to go see the OB/GYNs to get checked out all by herself. Well, the doctor couldn't get an accurate reading with the ultrasound on the length of your femurs, so that sort of raised a yellow flag. She said she was ninety-nine percent sure it's nothing to be concerned about, but she now wants your mother to go to the hospital to get checked out with one of those really high end ultrasound machines, one of the ones that go for half a million bucks. I'm sure it's just a precaution, and more of an inconvenience for your mom more than anything else since I must return for jury duty again tomorrow. And even though we both don't really expect any problems, of course we're going to worry. So I'm asking you nicely right now, please cooperate with the ultrasound tomorrow, just to ease our minds.

Love,
Dad

Jury duty...

Dear son,

Once again I'll have to miss going to the OB/GYNs with your mother tomorrow because I have to report for jury duty first thing in the morning. What a pain. Like ninety percent of the people who have to spend their day cooped up in a dull, uncomfortable jury pool, I probably won't even be called as a potential juror. Most people tend to view jury duty as an inconvenience and do what they can to avoid it. I think this is why the jury system doesn't work so well anymore. Most juries are apathetic and ignorant at best. It would be better to have three judges to whom plaintiffs and defendants could present their case, instead of relying on people who basically weren't smart enough to get off jury duty. I'll miss seeing you move around on the ultrasound screen with your smushed-up little face, but I'll be seeing you in person soon enough.

Love,
Dad

Dinner for four...

Dear son,

Tonight we had your uncles Matt and Jon over for meatballs and egg noodles. Your mom made it. It was delicious. Your mother is an excellent cook. We all ate a lot, especially me. Now I'm too tired to write anymore.

Love,
Dad

Back from the beach...

Dear son,

If you thought you heard the sound of the ocean and maybe even tasted some briny air, that's because you did. For the past couple days, your mother and I were at the Jersey shore, the kitschy, cheesy, tacky, corny, wonderful Jersey shore. Long Beach Island, to be exact, which I often refer to as Loud Baby Island, and to which I expect you to add your own powerful vocalizations this summer when we go for a visit. It's great there; it's like going back thirty or forty years back in time. It's not fancy or clever or sophisticated, but it is nice and clean and safe. Trust me, when you go someplace on vacation and you don't have to worry about it being nice and clean and safe, you're halfway to complete relaxation. Plus they've got great pizza there.

Love,
Dad

Will you like music...?

Dear son,

I like all sorts of music. My favorite band of all time is Van Halen. I'm not so partial to rap, but I like hiphop okay. I like to listen to jazz, but I don't know much about it. My tastes tend toward the angry, punky stuff, although I've recently discovered that I really like the psychedelic sounds of the 1960s and the rougher, less processed sounds of bands like the Sonics, the Hives, and Caesars Palace. That last one I can only attest to one of their songs, this one that was in a commercial for the iPod Shuffle by Apple. I like Mozart as far as classical composers are concerned. I plan on playing a lot of his works for you. They say Mozart stimulates baby brains to grow faster and smarter. Also, Beethoven's Ode to Joy is exactly that, a pleasure to listen to. I hope music holds the same appeal and restorative properties for you as it always has for me. I look forward to finding out where your tastes lie musically.

Love,
Dad

Because I'm the coolest dad...

Dear son,

I went to Old Navy today with the notion to buy myself a pair of pants to cram my gut into. My weight's been on the upswing the last several months, you see. Unfortunately, they had nothing for me. So I bought some more maternity pants for your mother, two of which she really liked, one I have to return, but it's all good. I got some stylin' stuff for you, too, but unlike the stuff my dad would buy for me, you won't ever have to be embarrassed to wear it. And when I return your mother's pants, I'm sure I'll find some other cool stuff for you. Why am I doing this, you might ask? See the title, junior.

Love,
Dad

Assert yourself...

Dear son,

Always be true to yourself and stick up for yourself. Nobody else can do it for you. If you don't believe something is right, don't go along with it. Don't let other people tell you something's wrong, when you know it's right. I'm not saying be obnoxious or violent about it. Avoid violence whenever possible, and always try to conduct yourself with personal dignity, which includes not being obnoxious. But don't let other people make your mind up for you. It's always easier to go with the flow rather than swim against the current, but it's your right as a person to say, "Nope. Sorry, I just don't agree." Depending on the situation, sometimes you'll win and sometimes you'll lose, but the key thing to remember is that you only really lose when you do or say nothing. After all, nobody can read your mind. Except me.

Love,
Dad

Valentine's day...

Dear son,

Today was Valentine's Day, so I sent your mom an email card with what I thought was a cute message. The weather was cold and rainy all day. Your mom gave me the best Valentine's present when she said we weren't going to be crazy enough to go out to some restaurant in weather like this. I was so happy. Instead of going out, I broiled us a steak and made some fettucine and a salad. For desert we had some coffee ice cream--Ben and Jerry's Heath Bar Crunch. It's crazy good. Afterward, we just hung out and enjoyed each other's company. It was really nice.

Love,
Dad

Flossing...

Dear son,

Flossing has never made any sense to me. You take a length of string, pull it tight between your fingers, and try to slide it up and down between your teeth. Ouch, I say. Dentists swear it's supposed to be good for your teeth and gums; it "reaches and cleans where a toothbrush can't," if you can believe it. I'm not saying you shouldn't do it. I'm just saying that for me, someone who has all thirty-two teeth and sensitive gums, I wish there were something easier. Your mom and I have already agreed that if you need braces on your teeth when you're old enough, you shall have them, by the way. Straight teeth don't just look good, they help with jaw and neck action, too. Trust me.

Love,
Dad

That's love...

Dear son,

Just before she went to bed, I asked your mother for a toe-tugging. One at a time, she grabs hold of each of my toes with both hands and pulls them really hard in order to crack them. It feels just great. She can only do my inside toes, however, as my big toe is too hard for her to crack and my pinky toe feels like it'll come off before it cracks, so she leaves those four little piggies alone. My point is that she hates doing it; the feel of my joints popping like that, the accompanying noise, the effort required--all that stuff skeeves her out a little bit. But she does it anyway, because I ask her to, because she loves me, and when you love someone, it becomes less about you and more about them. You make the sacrifice in your own way because you know it matters to them or makes them feel good, which, in turn, makes you feel good.

Love,
Dad

Days...

Dear son,

You will see as you grow older that there are good days, bad days, in-between days, and totally blah days. Enjoy the good ones, never use the bad ones as an excuse to beat yourself up, and always try to look for something positive in every single day. Resist the temptation to look for the negative, because if you do, you'll find it all too easily.

Love,
Dad

Napping is A-OK

Dear son,

Early this morning I had a doctor's appointment to check my liver functions while on Lipitor. When I left the house it was raining but mild. When I left the doctor's office, it was dry and cold and windy. I got home and I was cold and tired. I plopped down onto the couch, pulled my hood over my head, snuggled up under a nice warm comforter and was out like a light for four hours. When I woke up I felt great. Keep this in mind as you go through life. Make sure you get enough rest. Usually, you can function fine without much sleep, but when you get plenty of sleep you function at a way better level. Your body is rejuvenated, your mind is clearer, your mood is better, your nervous system is quieter, and your blood is cleaner. Something to think about.

Love,
Dad

Just the good parts...

Dear son,

Your mom has excellent bone structure and a gregarious personality. I have good length of bone and a great sense of humor. We're both very intelligent people, who communicate well, and also love and respect each other a lot. My teeth are cavity-free, but slightly cramped and crooked, but boy are they strong. Your mom's are big and straight. We're both healthy and kind and funny overall. All we wish for you is health, happiness, and for you to inherit all our strengths and none of our weaknesses, which is really what every parent wants for their children whether they recognize it or not. May you be the best person you can be, my boy.

Love,
Dad

Free at last...

Dear son,

Tonight was our last Lamaze class. While I'm relieved that it's over and I don't have to make the grueling drive into the city during rush hour to sit in an uncomfortable chair for three hours, I'm also feeling a strange sense of loss. It's weird and surprising. I must admit that that class kind of grew on me. The teacher was nice, and it was nice to see people with the same questions and concerns as us. We'll see them again in May for a reunion, and you're coming with us. Also, we're expected to bring some kind of meal, so maybe some meatloaf or baked ziti, I'm thinking.

Love,
Dad

You again...!

Dear son,

Today we saw Dr. Sean Henry, one of your mom's OB/GYNs, who gave her and you the once over. He said everything looks great, and showed us some ultrasound pictures of you doing practice breathing, which is a good thing to see, apparently. The doc's actual words were that so far your development and your mother's pregnancy are so perfect, they could be in a textbook. He took a picture for us. In it your face looks like the "face on Mars," an optical illusion existing on Mars as a result of tricks of light on the Martian surface. This is not a comment on your appearance, mind you. Ninety percent of the time, I can't make out any of these ultrasound photos unless the doctors point things out. To me, they mostly look like ink blots used in Rorsharch tests.

Love,
Dad

One lame halftime...

Dear son,

After last year's Janet Jackson debacle, the halftime show for Superbowl XXXIX was predictably sedate. Sir Paul McCartney did a few old songs, fans waved halfheartedly, and a bunch of fireworks went off. The New England patriots beat the Philly Eagles 24-21, which is cool, but the halftime show was so lame it kind of took my breath away. In other news, we visited your grandparents and had some lamb for dinner. I had heartburn most of the afternoon. There's this great cat who lives with your grandparents, and his name is Nigel. He is extremely friendly and gentle, but every now and then after handling him I get so itchy I feel like I'm going to lose my mind. That's no kind of fun, of course. But, oh boy, is he a great cat! You'll meet him soon enough.

Love,
Dad

Just about done...

Dear son,

Whew. Today's Herculean labors began at around nine this morning and except for a brief bite to eat did not end till around six this evening. I rerouted the cable from one side of the room to the other. Nailing those little clips into the baseboard was like driving spikes into granite, for some reason; the nails did not want to go into the wood. Then I move a bunch of furniture, vacuumed, move some more stuff, vacuumed, assembled your crib, broke down all the cardboard boxes and Styrofoam, and vacuumed some more. Then I reconnected all the computer and modem stuff, then went to the grocery store, and now here I am. That crib was really a two-man job, but I made it look easy all by my lonesome. I'll sleep well tonight, I can tell you that. Tomorrow I'll be paring down a huge pile of magazines and papers and receipts and stuff like that. But the hard part is over, except for raising you for the next twenty years or so. Just kidding, me boyo.

Love,
Dad

More stuff...

Dear son,

Stuff for your arrival just keeps arriving. Clothes, furniture, bedding. The living room looks so nice we should've done it years ago. We finally got a new coffee table, too. Try not to smash your head into the corners when you're old enough to walk, okay? One less thing to worry about, okay? Tomorrow I'm going to try to further neaten up the joint. I'd like to move all my computer and desk stuff to one side of the room, and leave the other side for your crib and other stuff. Oh no, my little friend, you won't be getting your own room just quite yet.

Love,
Dad

Keep busy...

Dear son,

Doing good things for others is a way of doing something good for yourself. It can be very rewarding if you do it selflessly, that is, not expecting a reward. All I did today was things for other people: my mother, your mother, your mother's mother, your uncle, and you. And you know what? I feel great, I really do. Remember that exercise is good for stress. Sleep is good for overall health. And doing something for someone else simply because it's a nice thing to do is great for lifting your mood. So is listening to music you love, by the way. Also, I like building things, like putting furniture together. Taking things apart is great, too. That way you learn how things work and at the same time have the visceral satisfaction of destroying something, which let us admit, the desire to break, smash, burn lurks in the hearts of all boys everywhere. But at the very least keeping busy does make you feel better.

Love,
Dad

Material goods...

Dear son,

Try to remember that it's nice to have nice things, like nice toys, clothes, computers, cars, whatever, and that you should try to keep them nice, but don't drive yourself crazy worrying about them. Nice things, whatever they may be, are meant to used, enjoyed, benefited from. Furthermore, you will discover that some people will have nicer things than you, and others will have things not as nice as you. What a person has or doesn't have is not what defines them as a person, and that's not the way to judge them. Decide for yourself if a person is worthy of you knowing them based on who they are, not what they've got.

Love,
Dad