It's pretty hard to understand all of what happens when you become a parent for the first time. There are so many contradictions; everyday is another discovery, another thought. Sunday, Julie and I were sorting through the clothes people have sent us for the baby. They are amazing and frightening. Everything is so small; everything is so cute. When you look at them that way, you don't get the sense that some day very soon a real person is going to wear them. They're so small. This is the scary part. When our baby gets here, some of these really small, really cute clothes are going to be too big for him! When the baby is born, he is going to be smaller than Tinker (our cat) is. Last night I dreamed about him. I was at the hospital and they were teaching me how to hold him. He was all red and wrinkled. This is looking responsibility in the eyes and knowing that whether you're ready or not, it's up to you to take it. Another reminder of how thorough the change is. With this realization has come sadness. It's hard to say this because it seems so wrong. Here you are in the middle of the most amazing experience a person can have and you feel sad. How can that be? It's pure nostalgia. I really like my life with Julie. I love our patterns, our routine. I love the comfort we have now. In four short months, the whole routine changes forever. I look forward to that day, more than anything. It's like Christmas and your birthday and the first day of summer all happen on the same day. It makes you realize that as comfortable as you get, sometimes you need to grab more even if it means big changes. If this change means you're sad because some phase of your life is passing, you've lived that phase well. Now it's time to look forward and live the next phase equally as well.

The baby is present in our life every day now. A couple of weeks ago, he started to move so that Julie and I could notice. Now he's getting bigger and stronger, Julie has started to notice his patterns. I like to think that he is visiting us when he's awake. Both Julie and I like to touch her stomach and feel his movements. I've heard stories about how complete strangers come up to a pregnant woman and ask to touch her stomach. It's a way of making contact with something amazing, something real. So often we get lost in our daily chores and worries, feeling a baby move is a real experience. It amazes me every time I feel him. As much as I wish he were here now, I realize he is, we just can't see him yet. It's just like Christmas.

By the way, as much as I want the baby to be born on January 1, 2000, if he comes early it's going to be Christmas day ...

D.