See you tomorrow...

Dear Nicky,

Well, my little boy, the doctor seems to think that it's best for you to be brought into the world tomorrow. A part of me wishes we could let you come in your own sweet time, but various health risks go up the longer we wait, and we don't want anything to happen to you. It'll be good to see you, to hold you, at long last. I look forward to meeting you. God bless and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Time's drawing near...

Dear Nicky,

Well, my little boy, the doctor thinks it's probably a good idea to chemically induce your mother into labor. Early Thursday morning we'll head on over to the hospital, your mom will get a shot of some medication, and six to twelve hours later, out you'll come. They'll take you out, I plan on cutting the cord, and they clean you up and put you in your mother's arms. They say immediately after birth babies are very alert, so we'd just like to look into your eyes for a few minutes, till you start nodding off. Then they'll take you off for a bit so your mom and I can collapse into nerveless puddles of goo. Tonight I was playing with the toys in your crib. There's this cool aquarium thing that's very soothing with lights, music, and bubbles in real water. They say it drives kids out of their minds with delight. Also there's bird-themed musical projector that shows pictures on the ceiling over your crib. You're going to love this one, too. It plays, among other tunes, Beethoven's Symphony #9, the title of which I think applies to you, too, my little ode to joy. May God bless and keep you, and may the two of you confound medical science and those who practice these arts without any warmth in their souls.

Love,
Dad

Rainy days and Mondays...

Dear Nicky,

All day long it's been pouring rain, and it is still raining. The white sky was too close. Days like this really take the wind out of my sails. Couple that with the fact that your mom and I are pretty nervous, waiting for your arrival, and that adds up to a day that makes you feel heavy inside and out. Tomorrow we go back to the OB/GYN yet again to see how things are doing. You seem active, and your mom feels fine, so I'm grateful for that. The doctor may decide that she will chemically induce labor in your mom. We'll see how it goes. One way or another, we'll be seeing you very soon. May God deliver you to us and safe and sound, and may he bless and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Happy Easter...

Dear Nicky,

Today, as you probably sensed from the organ music and choral singing, we went to church for Easter. It was a Presbyterian church, which I believe is to Christianity what lite beer is to regular beer, but it was still very nice because God sends us messages at any time and any place. The message I got today was the same message my own dad has been saying to me throughout this last difficult month: "Your father is with you." This is very comforting to me, for it has two meanings the way I see it, the first being that my father, your namesake, is with me; the second being, of course, that God, the father of the universe, is with us. Then we went to your mom's parents' house where we spent some time and had lunch, which was okay, but the scalloped potatoes and the roasted tomatoes were too watery. The ham and asparagus were really good, though. Your cousin Charlotte made a mess in the living room with plastic Easter grass and stuff. Then we came home. Your mom and I were feeling kind of low and tired, but then we had some laughs and our spirits were revived. Laughter is one of the best medicines. God bless and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Cheesesteak...

Dear Nicky,

I didn't do much today. I'm still trying to fix the wireless connection on your mother's laptop computer. I'm pretty tired lately. I should eat better and get back on my exercise regimen. Your mom says you feel like you've grown exponentially in the last couple weeks. Hearing that makes me happy. She went for a walk this afternoon and brought me a cheesesteak when she came back. Eating a cheesesteak makes me happy. But you and your mom make me the most happy (even though your mom can drive me a little crazy sometimes). God bless and keep you, Nick.

Love,
Dad

Windows= junk...

Dear Nicky,

I really don't like Windows-based computers. I'm not a snob or an elitist--not much, anyway--but when it comes to operating systems, I have to tell you that Windows from Microsoft is just plain awful. It's unnecessarily complicated, cumbersome, and counterintuitive. The reason for this diatribe is that the other day, when your mom came home from work for the last time before you are born, her company gave her a laptop computer with which to check her email and sales figures and such. The laptop is made by IBM, and I must admit they do make a quality product. This thing is light, well crafted, and solid as a rock. My beloved iBook is like a PlaySkool toy in build quality next to it, maybe even less so, because kids' toys are made to take a licking. So anyway, one of the major drawbacks to this laptop is a somewhat antiquated Wi-Fi card, which is fine for the corporate world, since much of its infrastructure is somewhat antiquated also. But here at home, we use Macs, and I've got a wireless router setup that's comfortingly simple and secure. However, your mom's laptop can't recognize the security protocols I've established on our home network, so in order to maintain the integrity of our own system, I got another Wi-Fi card from Target to use in the laptop. Well, son, I've been working on that darn thing all day, and I haven't gotten hardly anywhere. I finally managed to connect to our router, but I can't get any Internet access on the laptop. It's such a stupid operating system! God bless and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Slow day...

Dear Nicky,

Your Granny came over this afternoon, and that always puts your mother in a good mood. Considering her anguished state yesterday, anything would have been an improvement. I ran some errands and paid some bills and got us some submarine sandwiches from this place called Vito's. They were really good. I ate a whole one myself and it got me through the whole day, but it made me very thirsty so I drank two liters of Diet Coke in a short period of time. Your mother and I went into the city together this afternoon; that was the last time she'll be in the office for a while now, barring maybe the occasional meeting or something. We talked about Hawaii on the subway ride. That never fails to boost our spirits. We're going to take you there in a year or two. You'll love it. In the meantime, may God bless and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Dreary day...

Dear Nicky,

It sure doesn't feel like spring. Today it was cold and wet with occasional freezing rain, if you can believe it. I think your mom is going to miss work. Either that, or the stress of putting on a happy face for her coworkers has finally begun to wear thin. She was pretty tearful when she got home. The eager anticipation with which we await your arrival is sadly mixed with the great fear and anxiety we have for your predicted condition, a prediction we daily pray to be wrong. It's tough, and as I've said before, your mother has it tougher because her job is already full of stress. They gave her a new laptop computer at work so she can check her email and do stuff at home during her maternity leave. But it's a Wintel laptop, and they suck. So it's been a pretty lousy day all in all. No pressure, Nick, but if you wanted to, oh, say, shed an extra chromosome, it'd mean a lot to both of us. God bless and watch over you.

Love,
Dad

Yet more stuff...

Dear Nicky,

Got more stuff for you today. Can't help myself. Whenever I go to a store that has baby stuff I find myself buying something. Also I used some space-filling foam the air conditioner in your room (which is still, maybe one-tenth of it, my office type area) in order to eliminate drafts and, more importantly, reduce street noise. I hope it helps; I think it should. Also, we went to the OB/GYN this morning. See agreed with us that you have gotten bigger, which is wonderful. Your mom doesn't look like she's going to go into labor anytime soon, however, so if you don't come by Monday, we're going to set up a time to induce your mother into going into labor later next week, so we'll be seeing you soon, my little boy. You'll be in our arms very soon. May God bless you and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Knocked out...

Dear Nicky,

Today was an average day. I got some groceries, went to Target, made some beef stew for dinner. And then all of a sudden I just felt really angry, not at anything or anyone specific, just like getting struck by lightning, I was cast into an especially black mood. Something very small triggered a minor irritation, which turned into a furious tidal wave. Weird, I know. And exhausting, too. I hit the sack at six o'clock and slept for five hours straight. I only got up to say hello and will be going back to bed very soon. God bless and keep you, Nick.

Love,
Dad

First day of spring...

Dear Nicky,

Today was the first day of spring, or was it yesterday? Anyway, it was an overcast, damp, and cold day, just the kind of day that makes me want to stay in bed. To be honest, I hardly did a thing today, and I certainly didn't go out. I refer to the sky on days like this as "a terrible white sky." It offers neither pleasant light nor a comforting grayness. Brr! Days like this are good for only one thing: staying inside and taking naps. How are you doing these days, Nick? Tasting a lot of stress hormones, I'll bet. Well, we're plenty worried about you, what can I say? We love you to pieces, kiddo. It's God's design that we should, and speaking of God, may he bless and keep you and make you whole and healthy in body, mind, and spirit.

Love,
Dad

Completion...

Dear Nicky,

You know what? I think your room is pretty much ready. We've got all your clothes put away. Your crib's all made up. Your supplies are stocked up. And there's some nice art up on your walls. It's a nice room. Finally. Today was your grandmother's birthday. I was reluctant to drive your mom and you all the way out to see her, so she, your grandfather, and your aunt and uncle all came to us. That was really nice of them, and it made your mom so happy to see them all. Everybody loved your room, by the way, and they're all going to love you, too, when you get here. May God bless and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Some pictures...

Dear Nicky,

Today I went back to Ikea to get some wall art for your sleeping areas. For your bassinet area I got a print of some colorful cartoon animals. I thought they looked cheery and comforting. For your crib I got three prints of zebras. They're black and white and very bold graphically. I think you'll find them interesting. And finally, for above your changing table, I got a very peaceful looking, mostly blue print of a calm lake. Nice, huh? I also drove out to a Toys R Us store on Route 22 in Union. They had a pretty decent baby section, so I got some more stuff for you. Even though I got a ten-dollar coupon for my next visit, I don't think I'll go back to this particular store again. There was nothing wrong with it; it's just Route 22 goes through some real blighted areas. Ordinarily, I see and appreciate the sort of moldering beauty I think is inherent in urban blight, but it just doesn't seem right to do so while I'm buying toys and other stuff for my kid. Does that make sense? You'll have to excuse me if I ramble now and then, especially with my brains turned to mush lately, but it's not as if I don't have a reason. Your mother and I love you very much, and we're praying for you constantly, as are so many other people. God be with you, and mercifully so.

Love,
Dad

Still not ready...?

Dear Nicky,

Today at the doctor went pretty much as I said it would. It's kind of hard to wait for you to arrive, even if it were under the best of circumstances. The doctor said your mother was about a centimeter dilated. That's nowhere near ready, but the doctor said you could come at any time. When you do, we'll be here, with much eagerness and love. God bless and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Doctors appointment, again...

Dear Nicky,

Today your mom was saying you feel much bigger. It feels like she's popped. Tomorrow we go back to Dr. Hedley so she can check on you and your mom. We'll see if you've grown any, or maybe dropped. We'll see if your mom's uterus has effaced, or if she's even started to dilate. I'm sure we'll hear more of the old he-looks-like-a-textbook-perfect-baby routine. I know it must suck, but try to cooperate with the ultrasound. Give us a really good angle on your leg bones or something, okay? Maybe a nice shot of your face, including nose and earholes? May God be with us all.

Love,
Dad

Sadness returns...

Dear Nicky,

We got the call this afternoon. Somehow, the same lab that was saying last week they wouldn't be able to confirm anything till after you were born now managed to do exactly that. They confirmed their initial findings. Unless a miracle occurs, or has occurred, or is occurring, you will have Trisomy 21, my sweet, darling boy. Your mother's anguish and your genetic misfortune are breaking my heart. God have mercy on all of us.

I love you no matter what, Nicholas, and I always will.

Dad

Come to us...

Dear Nicky,

Well, my little boy, your due date is drawing near. Everybody's waiting for your arrival with eager anticipation. You just take your time, though, and come whenever you're ready. Grow and develop and be healthy and whole. I like to imagine you're dancing with angels in your mamma's belly. God bless and keep you.

Love,
Dad

Sunday afternoon...

Dear Nicky,

Today your grandparents (on your mother's side) came over for a visit. They were a great comfort to your mom during these uncertain days. They brought over a bunch of stuff for you, including a cool mobile and some toys. They're really looking forward to your arrival. We went for a nice long walk along the river, then they treated us to lunch. I had a cheeseburger and some really good fries at Wolfgang Puck Express. If Wolfgang Puck is even aware of this particular joint's existence I'll eat my hat. They said a prayer for you, then they left. A nice time was had by all. God be with you.

Love,
Dad

Whenever you're ready...

Dear Nicky,

Everything's pretty much ready for your arrival. We're just waiting on you, but don't feel you have to rush to get here. Except for some mobiles and posters, we're all set. Your mom and I spent some time together this afternoon, sorting and putting away all your clothes and stuff, and then she got her own bag ready for the hospital. Now all is in order. This makes me happy. Why it mattered to me so much I cannot say. Perhaps some of your mother's nesting instinct was transferred to me somehow. God keep you, my little boy.

Love,
Dad

Strange news...

Dear Nicky,

Today was a dreary day outside. Winter does not want to leave. I spent most of the day washing your clothes and blankets. It took a while because I dried everything on low, which needs more time. Some of the labels said cold water only, but I'm applying the law of the jungle to all your clothes: If they can't take a washing in warm water, then they don't deserve to be in your wardrobe. Baby clothes especially must be washed in warm water to get them clean, don't you think? The good news is that all your stuff has been washed. The strange news is that the genetic counselor from Roosevelt Hospital called and said the final results from the amniocentesis wouldn't be available before your mother gave birth to you. She said that the cells were growing slowly and were unable to be examined. She said it had something to do with the changing nature of a baby's cells this late in the gestation. I felt that this news was neither good nor bad, just odd, and decided to tell your mother only if she asked about it. Earlier, she was feeling pretty blue about things and asked me in a small voice if I had happened to talk to the genetic counselor. When I told her what happened, it seemed to strengthen her heart and relieve her spirit. If this really is good news, then you're an even bigger bringer of happiness and good fortune than we already thought. How do you like that?

Who knows...?

Dear Nicky,

Well, a lot of people are telling us one thing, while others are telling us something else. Today we went to see Dr. Hedley, who was really nice. She said that if not for the amniocentesis tests telling us you have Down syndrome, she wouldn't think there was a thing wrong with you. She showed us your heart, which she said looks normal to her. We watched you do practice breathing and suck on your wrist. The doctor said both of these acts are usually associated with well developed brains. But then on the other hand, your legs are still measuring short. Technically, your mom will be thirty-nine weeks pregnant with you this weekend, and your legs are measuring around thirty-five. Who knows what any of this data means? Anything that deviates a little bit from a computer database's limited reference is red-flagged. God watch and keep you.

Love,
Dad

What's up, docs...?

Dear Nicky,

Today we met with a nice pediatrician in Greenwich Village who's probably going to be your doctor when you arrive. She seemed kind and sympathetic. When she addressed a group of us, she was reassuringly nervous. Tomorrow we're going to see your mom's OB/GYN again. It'd be nice if you were bigger and longer of limb. It'd be nice if you had no extra chromosome, either. Just think about is all I ask, okay?

Love,
Dad

Winter's back...

Dear Nicky,

We had another snowstorm today. The temperature dropped nearly thirty degrees over the course of the afternoon and evening, a few more inches of snow fell, and the wind was bad. All this means is that Spring will be that much sweeter when it comes. Unfortunately, your mom was running around in this bad weather this evening. Your mom's under a lot of stress, understandable these days. She's got a demanding job, plus she's carrying you around 24/7, so it's not like she's ever really free to put her mind on other things. I'm not blaming you, of course, I'm only saying so you'll understand why you're probably tasting all these extra stress hormones in your feed these days. Me, I'm trying to focus on the here and now; future-looking has always been a kind of torment for me. But lately a number of things have been pleasantly surprising me, so I really do believe there's something special in the air, for all of us. Be well, in Jesus' name.

Love,
Dad

Everybody, everybody...

Dear Nicky,

There are so many people praying for you. I mean lots and lots of people, people we may never meet but to whom we'll always be grateful no matter what. Your grandmother on your mother's side is very well connected in terms of people she knows who are very happy to pray for other folks. My parents are surely doing their part. Your mom and I, well, we're probably leading the pack. Your mom said you were extra active this evening, perhaps the most active you've ever been, definitely the most active in a while. That makes me so happy because I feel like you're experiencing growth spurts. Earlier, you had the hiccups. You were kicking or otherwise bopping around quite rhythmically. I put my head on your mom's belly and laughed with delight as you popped, squirmed, and wiggled. You're great, Nicky. God be with you.

Love,
Dad

Surprises...

Dear Nicky,

About an hour ago, I told your grandfather, my father, of your troubles. I could hear the fear and dismay in his voice. He heard the pain in mine, the struggle I was making to say the words. I had dreaded this phone call because I was afraid of how he would take it and how he would react. I was really afraid he'd somehow be mad, that he'd somehow blame us, that I would be a disappointment to him. But instead, instead he reached out to me over the phone, and comforted me, and it the sweetest feeling I've gotten from him in the longest time. He comforted me as any father comforts his child, as I will comfort you when you need me. I told him to take care of himself and my mother, and he told me not to worry about them, that they would be fine, that everything would turn out all right. I asked him to pray, and I hope God heeds those prayers.

Love,
Dad

Another quiet day...

Dear Nicky,

If we didn't have the pain of knowing what we seem to know, today would've been just an ordinary day, like all the ones before we got that bit of bad news. Your mom read manuscripts and went to get a facial. I vacuumed and washed a bunch of clothes. It was a sunny day, and not too cold. Everything seemed normal on the surface, but every now and then, our grief poked through the cracks. This is hard for us, but we don't blame you. We're pretty scared. We just want you well. God hear our prayers for you.

Love,
Dad

Laundry...

Dear Nicky,

Today, I washed a bunch of your clothes and blankets and other assorted you-related stuff. They're nice and clean now, and as soon as your changing table comes, they'll be neatly put away. I'm not much of a folder, so we'll have to rely on your mom for that, and because of the different age and size groups...we'll, uh, have to rely on her for that, too. Heh heh. I can buy 'em, wash 'em, and dry 'em, but organizing 'em is not one of my strengths just yet, but I'll work on it. You take care and be well, with legions of angels watching over you in your dreaming haven.

Love,
Dad

Little fighter...

Dear son,

My boy, I'm so proud of you. In one week, you grew 1.5 weeks' worth. That's what the ultrasound measurement at the OB/GYN indicated today. You're such a brave little guy, and tough. Like I said yesterday, you take all the time you need in there. If you need to stay a little longer, you go right ahead. We're all on your schedule, my friend, not the other way round. I know it can't be easy for you, but I also know you'll do your best. And I want you to know that we love you so much. We're with you in spirit, Nick, your mother and I, and we're praying for you constantly. We're hoping that our positive thoughts make their way to you and give some more energy and strength to rally your forces, and that our love and tenderness wraps you in a cozy and warm blanket of developmental assistance. Always know, my Nicky, that we'll love you through thick and thin, no matter what, but for your own sake, do your best to come out with a minimum of development challenges, okay? Not for our sakes, no don't worry about that, but for your own. Only for your own sake. God keep and heal you.

We love you,
Dad

Take your time...

Dear Nicky,

Well, you probably know what's going on with you better than we do, so tonight I'll be brief rather than long-winded and maudlin. Your mom and I were initially leaning strongly toward a cesarean, both for your sake and for our own, in that you wouldn't have to endure the struggles of labor and we wouldn't have to deal with the unpredictable timing of labor. But as we were driving home from the hospital, I started thinking that if you're not fully cooked yet, why take you out of the oven before you decide you're ready? In the last few days, we've been hit with some pretty terrifying news; I think we can handle the minor inconvenience of regular labor. I bet you're going to be a little late, just because you need a little more time in there. That's okay, don't rush. Use that time to develop and grow big and strong like the tiger you are. We'll wait. God keep you.

Love,
Dad

The bottom drops out...

My darling boy, my sweet kid,

Well, my little Nicky, we got the news today that we feared the most. According to the amniotic fluid test we had done, you have Down syndrome. I still can't believe it. I feel like I've been kicked in the head by a giant mule. I was really expecting the test to come back negative. I have to tell you that I'm a little bit in denial; I'm clinging to the hope that the test was wrong somehow (in three percent of the cases they are), or that God will intervene sometime between now and the time of your birth (I've experienced a genuine miracle before). Your mom has been a tower of strength, and the outpouring of support has been remarkable. I vacillate between hope, anger, sadness, and numbness/depression. I also like to throw a bit of bargaining into the mix, y'know, just to keep things interesting. One thing that hasn't vacillated ever is how much I love you and look forward to meeting you. I just wish I could bear this burden for you and your mom. You see, I was thoughtfully introduced to pain and sorrow at a nice early age, whereas your mom and her family have never really know a moment's pain. I'm exaggerating, of course, but I think you know what I mean. In many ways, I feel I can endure the weight of these trying circumstances better than your mom. But she is amazing. Don't attach too much import to these recent and soon to come posts, my boy; I'm a little mad with grief. We're all going to have to come to term with this unexpected bit of news over the coming days and weeks, and we're all going to do it in different ways and paces. At times I guess it won't be easy, but I believe our love makes us strong. We're a real little family now and we have to stick together.

Love,
Dad