The Cosmic Connection Between a Father and a Son
In short, there isn’t one, at least none that I sensed even though I was there for the birth of my first son. Despite being told it would be a mystical experience, I didn’t receive any spiritual revelations. Full disclosure: I didn’t cut the umbilical cord. Perhaps that’s where the magic is.
No Magic, Just Right
I briefly considered that there was something wrong with me. Maybe I was too self-aware, too busy watching myself to be in the moment. In the end, I realized there wasn’t anything wrong with me at all. I was just more than ready.
Mateo was our first child, but my wife’s third pregnancy. The first two didn’t make it past the first trimester. There wasn’t an unexplained cosmic connection between my son and me. It was just right when he finally arrived. Maybe the word I’m looking for is fitting. The thing is I realized that I had already reserved the space in the crook of my arm for cradling him.
The Birth of the Second Son
I think I was better prepared for the birth of Gabriel, our second son. His umbilical cord (which I also did not cut) was wrapped around his neck. No one seemed alarmed, just watchful, so I didn’t worry about it. After fifteen hours of labor, our doctor suggested a C-section. He cited the length labor, which led him to believe he would be a large baby, but on which side of nine pounds he didn’t know. By this point, Susan was ready for anything.
I was ready too, but I wasn’t preparing myself for anything more miraculous than physical birth. When I saw him for the first time, I wasn’t looking for anything else. I heard him cry and, even without the herald angels singing, that was enough of a miracle.