Y’all ready for this?
We’re having a baby.
It’s crazy to actually write out those words. It feels like I’ve kept this secret forever, and releasing it is both the relief I wanted it to be mixed with a lingering realization of the loss of a secret so precious. For months, the news of our baby has stayed in a tight circle, and it felt safe. The world is a stress-inducing cacophony, and I already want to shield our child from everything bad in the world. Yet I am far more excited to step into the mess and help our little baby grow and learn and explore. The endless possibilities our baby will someday explore pulls my face into the most genuine smile I’ve known. Our little Larsen will eventually face a big, crazy world with an ambitious energy. Oh, the joy I already feel from who they will become.
Everything about this feels new and unknown and terrifying and awesome. I think we have learned more in the past few months than our entire lives, and it seems like we have only scratched the surface. The planner in me wants to map out every possibility – to lay the paths our baby can someday take, and watch as they choose their path. Yet the restless soul deep inside me knows the paths I could lay would never be the right option. As much as I want to map out all the options and test every possibility, I realize my job as a dad is not to take our baby’s adventures in their place – my job is to prepare them for all the adventures they encounter. I’m so looking forward to the adventures we get to share.
This blog actually started a few months ago. Shortly after I read the pregnancy test – “Pregnant” in clear, life-changing letters – I grabbed my computer to get out some of my thoughts. Part of me felt like it couldn’t be real, as I slumped onto our couch in the dark basement of my in-laws’ house. I’ve never understood people in the movies who ask, “How did this happen?” when they get pregnant; do they really not understand how it works? My thoughts stayed closer to the “Oh, it worked. Now what?” type of questions. It felt like a lot to move across the country, start seminary, find a new job, and have a baby in the same nine-month span. Correction: It is a lot. I’m certain we are incapable of doing it all without stress or mistakes, and so I pray for the humility to ask for help, the commitment to forgive off days and pursue good days, and the determination to continue to trust God one step at a time. After all, if God had other plans for our adventure, the test would have said “Not Pregnant,” and we would have moved to Texas with one less adventure on the horizon.
Instead, I tugged at the cuff on my pajama pants, cracked my knuckles, and started to write. I wanted to document the moment, and have something to show our baby someday – to share the experience with them. My mind raced as my fingers tried to keep up, and this is what I wrote:
It’s a little after nine a.m., Tuesday, June 2, 2020. I just found out I’m going to be a dad.
I mean, we thought so. Still, people struggle for years to get pregnant, and everything worked the first time we tried? It’s crazy.
The emotions inside me are whirling around. Part of me is more excited than I think I know how to comprehend. I am so deeply eager to see our child for the first time and experience life as a parent with my wife. I love her more than I thought possible, and I have longed to see her become a mom. Part of me is absolutely terrified; there’s so much I haven’t figured out in my own life, so how can I possibly be a dad? How am I supposed to raise a child to be loving and kind when I struggle to do it myself? My head is full of unanswered questions.
Most of all, though, I feel the weight of the greatest secret ever. Our parents are all about to be grandparents. Our siblings will be aunts and an uncle. Our grandparents will get to be great-grandparents. My heart is flipping inside my chest; I just want to tell everyone – We’re having a baby.
Hopefully I get to post this some day, as part of the journey of parenthood. Maybe our child will read this eventually, and think, “Wow, Dad was kinda freaking out.” You’re right, Kid, I kinda am.
If it’s August 20, 2030 and you’re reading this, Kid, just know I never stopped freaking out a little bit. I also never stopped loving every bit of you with every ounce of me. This is the next adventure for us, and it’s quite literally the first adventure for you. I will be there to share and encourage all the adventures you take on, and I promise I will carry my “Dad” title above any job or accomplishment. (It goes below my “Husband” title, though – I loved your mom first.)
It’s really nice to let the secret out, because there’s plenty of other things to think about for the rest of forever. Let’s do this.
alexjjlarsen.com 