Guest Blog: Same Heartbeat

My name is Larry, and I am Anna’s dad. I am writing here as a guest blogger to share a few things with you. I asked for this assignment.

I am writing to tell you about my first born daughter. I used to call her Soup Bean when she was little, and I’m not sure how she got that name. Except I like soup beans a lot. Certainly an acquired taste, don’t you agree?

When I think about Anna I think about how scared I was of her as an infant. I didn’t know what to do with a baby, and I was certain I was going to drop her or inflict some sort of pain on her. So my heart would beat fast when she was in my arms. That lasted until the first time she fell asleep on my chest, lulled to sleep by that same heartbeat. And I knew then that everything was going to be OK. At least that’s how I felt then. But I was wrong. Everything was not going to be OK. She had skinned knees and alligator tears and disobedience and scoliosis and adolescent hubris. Intermingled in the things that weren’t OK were things that were amazing, such as beautiful art and wisdom and poetry and imagination.

Here’s a memory that still haunts me: We were riding bikes and she was in front of me and we were going pretty fast. Her bike slid out from underneath her and she went down right in my path. I will never forget that feeling as long as I live. My bike was mere feet from her downed body, and I was certainly going to run over her. My very own daughter. I lifted the bike with everything I had, still grazing her, and I wrecked just past her. My world stopped. Had I hurt my very own daughter? I would never do such a thing. I would (and have since) taken great strides to make sure she remained unharmed. I could tell you stories, some that even she doesn’t know, about my efforts to make sure she was unhurt.

I am writing to you because she is hurt even as I write this. And her hurt has been caused because she has made some poor choices, driven by faulty beliefs. She will tell you this. But she will not tell you much more than this because she doesn’t understand much more than this. Neither do I. Truthfully, it’s going to take some time for she and I to understand this enough to speak about it intelligently. It will likely be worth wait, because I’m pretty sure it’s going to be one hell of a story.

Anna is going to have a baby. And she is not in a relationship at the moment. Even as I write this I can see her losing control of the bike she is on, going down right in front of my eyes.

I am two people these days. I am hurt because she is hurt, and I would move heaven and earth to make her pain go away. And I am so excited about the life that is growing strong inside of her. Anna’s sister, Kat, is also having a baby, and they are due only a day apart. Kat felt her baby move today and I got to talk to her about that tonight. I am so excited about this. Being a granddad. The kids are going to call me Poppy (or Papi, still not sure about the spelling).

I am guest blogging tonight to ask a favor. Anna doesn’t need your pity. And she doesn’t need your judgment (unless you have perfected the art of living). She needs space to work on her own stuff, which she is doing, and she needs help celebrating the life that grows inside her. A true wonder. Her job is simple (not easy): Fix the mistakes, love the baby. You can help her with the second part if you choose.

Is everything going to be OK? Well, I don’t know that yet. I guess in the end of all things the answer is “yes.” But I don’t know how long we have to wait for that.

I know that in my family two young lives are developing, getting ready to walk into a world they know nothing about. In this messed up world I know they will be loved. And I know if either one is a boy he will have to be comfortable wearing the occasional dress and playing with Barbies and American Girl dolls.

And I am full of anticipation for that day when my grandkids fall asleep on my chest, listening to the sound of my heartbeat. I guess then everything will be OK again.