I’m sitting in a room. Quiet. I could say empty but then I would be lying. There is one other person in the room with me.
I can’t help but to wonder why I’m even in this room.
I’m looking around and feeling a little awkward. Very distant. You could almost say alone. Or better yet, isolated. At the same time my heart is palpitating a thousand miles a second. It’s intense.
This chair feels so out-of-place. I want to say it’s because I’m using it but that’s not it. The color. The shape. It’s a piece of the puzzle that just doesn’t fit quite right. Just a little out-of-place. It holds me; it supports me. It does its job. For the most part.
The second person is laying down. We’re both waiting. Idling if you will.
I’m getting impatient. A little bored. Not going to lie. I grab my phone and begin to play a game. Just to pass the time. Or at least temporarily.
This human being I’m sharing the room with now begins to look as bored as I am. We exchange facial expressions of happiness. We smile. Not forced. Actual human smiling. You know the type. When you’re looking at the monitor and you see, for the first time, what will be your future child.
Yep. Future child.
Has an ominous tone and a depressing ring to it. When really it is a life altering, hair pulling, nail-biting and diaper changing experience that is hard to truly encapsulate with mere words.
Jamie and I are sitting in a room, watching as the nurse explains it all. The nose, the heart, hands, feet and everything that will be our future son, Salvador. A quick glance at Jamie reveals a tear, poking, prodding, and wanting to make its way to the surface of her face. I, too, feel it. That razor-sharp tear wanting to surface.
This feeling of joy. Happiness. It’s a combination of fear, confusion, excitement and oddly enough a little bit of sadness. It’s good. Sadness in that only a few members of my family will be able to share in this part of my life.
I hear the whimper. The hand quickly covers the mouth and emotion spews out. Jamie is ready to cry. I see the transformation of silence to elated mother. Within seconds I’m feeling frozen in time. A static state of emotion. I am truly happy.
This was the day we found out we were going to have a baby.