Saturday, January 28, 2012

Patience Shows The Reason For The Journey

My wife and I came to an "out loud" realization today that had we not lost our first baby, we would not have our son.

It was a weird thought for me.

When we first experienced the reality that we were losing our first child after over 20 weeks of excitement and planning, the sorrow was intense. We were lucky that there were no lasting problems or scary health issues with my wife, but we lost what we thought of as our child even if it was mostly in our thoughts and dreams.

At the time, many questions were raised in my head regarding when life starts and ends. Where does our soul come from? Should I feel sorrowful for losing someone I never met? Was I being a drama queen?

Since then I continue to reflect on these kinds of questions, but have found no answers.  Honestly, I am not sure I want to because the hunt is more fun than the destination in my opinion.

More importantly, my sorrow has become more distant. We have had two successful pregnancies and two healthy children.  The pain of that summer has become more of a memory than a feeling.

Now we come to the thought that had we not lost Mallory, we would not have our son who is a tangible, visible being in front of us that we can hold and kiss and interact with everyday.

Had Mallory made it, we would have theoretically had our daughter and then called it quits as we have after our son because two children was our predetermined limit.

This means three daughters of my own and two daughters for my wife and me.  While this is great, I have repeatedly thought to myself over the past year how much I love having a boy.  All those cheesy ideas of throwing the baseball with my boy (see Field of Dreams), the father-son song by Harry Chapin, helping him though adolescence and giving advice how to handle calling girls for the first time have been so enjoyable to think and dream about.

Plus, changing things up has been nice after two girls.

My parenting really won't be much different. I purposely try not to be gender restrictive with my kids. He will be who he will be, and I enjoy playing catch with my daughters so I would have with Mallory as well. 

Still, there is this little guy I love dearly that probably wouldn't be here had Mallory been here.

Then again, there is this little girl I would have loved dearly who isn't here.

We say everything happens for a reason.  Could the loss and its pain have happened so that I could have this wonderful joy of a son?  Is that the reason?

Does the end justify the means?  Or maybe, does the end justify the journey?  Should I feel guilty about this?

Do I feel guilty?

In the end, things happen and none of this has been in my complete control.  I didn't do anything to lose Mallory and there was nothing I could have done to save her.

I feel the way I feel whether I like it or not. I don't believe I can control my true emotions but rather the way I express them.

While I obviously created my son, I had no control over his biological sex. Well, I have no idea how to control my Y chromosome to determine his biological sex anyway.

So it seems to me that I should revel in the joy I have with a son and appreciate the fact that things happened this way.  There was a lot of pain and now there is a lot of joy and fun.  The pain needed to happen to get here.

I will let God or the Universe or my Higher Power (take your pick, I'm an open minded guy) worry about souls and what would have been.  I will be grateful for my family and the boy I can raise with my girls.

Everything happens for a reason.

(Pan towards the sky with "Cats in the Cradle" playing in the background.)