Fatherhood . . . am I really doing this?

Things are getting serious, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

I suppose that’s an honest way to start this blog, newsletter, outlet, self-soothing mechanism . . . I’m not quite sure what this is yet.

But we’re having a baby.

The “we” is my wife Marie and me. We’ve been married for ten months now and have slightly different levels of enthusiasm about the prospect of procreation.

I’ve always wanted to be a dad.

Just to tell you who you’re dealing with, Stella, my wife’s maid of honor, called me “squishy” in her speech at our wedding. Squishy. In front of my family. My father. And other men. And strangers within earshot. And everyone who knew me laughed and nodded knowingly at one another.

And yes, I take offense.

Stella meant it as a compliment, and I’ll begrudgingly admit she has a point. I’m a bit of a mush-ball who likes to tell the people I love how much I love them and why. (I have a dark sense of humor that will soon reveal itself, and there are a lot of people I don’t like. But for those I love, I love hard.) I proposed to Marie three months and 29 days after I met her.

I love my wife. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my parents and only brother. I’m a great uncle to three beautiful nieces, and I know I’m going to love being a dad.

I can’t wait to teach my son to throw and hit a baseball, how to read, how to write, how to shake hands, to persuade, how to defend himself, to be honest and kind. I’m excited to meet him. I’m excited about molding his character and honing him into a valuable member of society. And I’m totally okay with having a girl. I’m excited about that too, though I have no fucking idea what I would do with a daughter (aside from murdering anyone who mistreats her). I’m excited at the possibilities of our offspring. I’m imagining combinations of Marie’s and my best traits that are going to result in a stupendously happy, successful, curious, well-regarded being who will bring and spread joy, enthusiasm and kindness everywhere he or she goes.

My wife is not squishy.

Marie is a good cook, a great athlete, a very successful businesswoman, brilliant, focused, determined, hilarious, beautiful, utterly and instantly impressive to whomever she meets . . . but not squishy.

She’s not quite dreading the prospect of motherhood, but she’s thoroughly, profoundly dreading every aspect of pregnancy. It looms in the shadows of her consciousness like a giant, drooling, screaming sack of Need with sticky hands and a thousand teeth that is going to destroy her nipples, empty her bank account and take and take and take time, money, energy and our ability to travel.

As we’re still near the beginning of this unfolding tale, here are a few of the basics. I found the perfect girl when I was 39 and she was 34. We’re now 43 and 37, and it’s now or never. We’re both healthy and physically fit. We’re financially stable homeowners with reliable incomes and reason for optimism about the future. We’ve had three and half years to play together before we walk the plank and dive into the world of parenthood.

And Marie is not pregnant.

Our entry into parenthood is entirely theoretical at this point. We could totally not do it. And we’ve seriously discussed not doing it (which is saying a lot for me). We’re happy. We’re the happiest either of us has ever been. We love our life, as is. We have a great group of friends. We have time to be spontaneous, to curl up on the couch together, watch our favorite shows, travel to our hearts’ content and enjoy a childless life.

But after much thought and discussion, we want to have a child. (“A child”, Marie is quick to remind me. We’re going to be one and done. The kid better like our dogs because it’s not going to have a sibling).

I guess that’s enough for post #1. Thanks for reading. My name is Hank, and I’ll be using my substack to air concerns, vent frustrations, purge demons and probably divulge too much. If you like the way I write or are interested in our ongoing saga, please comment, subscribe and, most importantly, share with your friends because I have no idea how to self-promote.

I’m ecstatic and terrified of the journey to come.

More soon.

Hank