Joy Baby

There was a taste of magic in the air with the newly found joy of anticipating fatherhood, and a little bit of the mystique as I considered the reality of me bringing forth an extension of myself. O the wonder of our Masterful Creator. But there was also the element of fear, wondering if he/she will be normal. In Southern Wisconsin just across the Illinois state line on Friday, August 31, 1973, there was plenty of stress on the job, but there was pure family joy in our hearts. So much joy in fact that our new born's middle name would be Joy. But that did not stop questions from pouring into our young minds. And with so many choices, what on earth shall we name our first child? Ours was such a good doctor that we allowed him to select her first name. I worried about my wife's health because the 'morning sickness' was severe. But because of the Grace of God and the tender display of compassion and love by our elderly neighbor, my dear wife was able to endure and pull through. We lived in the rural at least 10 miles from the nearest hospital, but I don't remember being concerned in the least about that. Instead, we wondered about other matters such as: Will I be in the delivery room to see our baby born? (No. I missed it by 'minutes'). Are we going to breastfeed or feed with conventional milk? (We breastfed her). Will our baby be a boy? Or, will our baby be a girl? (Our baby was a girl, and we named her Pamela Joy) What about the height and weight? ( I Do not remember; more research required). All was safe, sane and sound. But parents will persist with What if ...? What if...? What if? 07032018PoetrySoupContest: Joys And Tears of Being An Expectant Parent, Guillermo-Fraser