Fatherhood: Part Two

Colin Brady Parsons. My son.

Just typing those words shoots a bolt of endorphins through my fingers as I think about the whirlwind of today and the fact that Jillian gave birth to our second child early this morning.

To some of you in the blogosphere I have to apologize for burying the lead and refusing to mention that Jillian was even pregnant. I wanted the timing to be right, procrastinated, and decided it was pointless to say something at 7 months. Might as well just wait until Colin was here.

He was born at 7:57 am and we have spent the rest of today just marveling at all of his details. 

• The white cream on his skin at birth fascinated me and I learned this stuff, vernix, was his 'lotion' to protect him while he was in utero. 
• I was nervous when I cut his umbilical cord. Asking me to use scissors at that moment was akin to asking LeBron James to make a basket in the fourth quarter.
• I was embarrassed at my incompetence in swaddling. I used to be a pro.
• I analyzed his facial features and marveled at how similar he looked to Megan when she was born.
• I giggled at his baby farts as he passed gas from eating and how he intuitively seemed to lift his left leg up slightly.
• I cringed when changing his dirty diaper and I had to touch his ball sac to clean underneath it.

But I rocked at holding him. Unfortunately for Jillian, she had the pain of carrying him for the past 37 weeks and while she recuperated ... I nuzzled, poked, kissed, and canoodled with him.

And it made me. Colin's presence in my life is an indescribably joy. My expectations with this delivery couldn't have been any lower. I think my biggest contribution was dragging the baby swing and car seats from the basement storage earlier this week. This is in stark contrast to the weeks leading up to Megan's birth when I was devouring every book about parenting. I figured I could just wing it with this little guy.

That may seem idiotic but I think the lack of expectation allowed me to experience Colin's birth 'in the moment.' I wasn't worried about a checklist I read about or a tip on how to capture the perfect picture pose. 

I was just present. And it was powerful.

With Megan, the unexpectedness of her arrival and immediate whisking away to the NICU unit because she was born 6 weeks early, as well as complications with the delivery for Jillian kept me from focusing on my feelings. Plus I was a first-time dad. I was an idiot. This time I was better prepared.

Let me clarify ... I was better prepared for the delivery. Now with that part over I am completely terrified of what to do next. Just like I'm completely terrified about what the lasting implications will be on my daughter from Jillian deciding to paint her nails last weekend as a treat. 

But those stories are for another day and another time. 

Because today, I held my son, Colin Brady, in my arms for the first time. 

And it was perfect.