There I Stood

There I stood. Despite the education received in the Personal Growth class from my Catholic High School; Despite the admonishments from my father concerning becoming “whipped”; Despite the late bloom I would realize when it came to experiences with the opposite sex; There I stood. One month removed from my twenty-first birthday; Six months away from gaining a four-year college degree in three years; Ten months after having moved in with my first college girlfriend; There I stood. After crying when she first told me; After attending every doctor’s visit with her along the way; After months of empathy breathing in weekly Lamaze classes; There I stood. Having just seen the X-rays of a fetus in the breech position; Having just called the doctor to announce her water had broke; Having just gotten lost on the way to the hospital; There I stood. In a hospital cap and gown; In a maternity surgery room; In a state of unencumbered fear and anticipation; There I stood. Ready or not … There I stood. . . . And now, thirty-five years later, I still stand here in love with the daughter they gave me to hold back then, when I knew not … where I stood.