Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Reflection: A happy evening

"I'm going to miss this," I said. The air was humid while Athena and I lay close. I didn't mind the extra warmth on an already hot evening. All my attention was in my hand and the thumping beneath it. "The Visitor" was very energetic in his exercises. I imagined him like a tiny taiko drummer playing the inside of a watermelon. I removed my hand. Athena said "he's stopped." I put my hand on another part of her round belly. Heartbeats later my hand was being kicked again in a rhythmless avalanche of excitement.

In that moment we gave him all he needed. In that moment the love and safety of cuddling on the bed was sufficient. I was in enraptured by the tiny life growing in my partner. The life that was half me, half her, and wholly its own. We could give him everything he needed then. Love and food. We had plenty of the former, and were managing to keep up on the latter. For a few evenings that spring it felt like everything was well in hand. Everything would be fine as we marinated in contentment. In those warm sunsets love was enough for everything.

For a few evenings I was the perfect father.

***Athena's Response***


  1. My daughter's birthmother has said several times that she doesn't miss being pregnant, but she misses having the baby with her, within her. She misses the kicks and the hiccups...the idea that she is taking care of her child to the best of her ability. I think she still is...

  2. "She misses. . . the idea that she is taking care of her child. . . I think she still is."

    Wow. That is an awesome perspective, in the literal sense that it fills me with awe to consider it. You're good people.

  3. That sounds like a wonderful couple of evenings.

    Not sure about the "perfect" part, but from the looks of the musing on this blog, it seems like you are still a very good father, a very good birth father.

  4. I believe it is important to emphasize that there are many good times in the pregnancy of a birthfamily. Many times of quiet grace in a storm of complication, doubt, worry, obstruction. As a birthmother I cherish those memories and wish I had been able to smooth out more of the rough spots so more of my time could be simple enjoyment of being myself with my partner and my visitor.


What do you think? I'm curious.