Up Close and Personal

This morning my wife and I had our most intimate encounter yet with our unborn child. Happily, we came to know that our baby is healthy, has large feet, four cardiac chambers and a beautiful, awe-inspiring face with two eyes, one nose and a little mouth that opens and closes.

We also found out that our baby is a boy. Coming into this experience, I was truly ambivalent about our baby’s gender. But standing there this morning, watching my boy’s stout ball-sack and unmistakable wang, I was admittedly overcome with pride.

I had heard much from other men in my life about this phenomenon. “Can you put the stem on the apple?” – my brother-in-law joked. As if the presence of a Y chromosome in one of my million love warriors somehow fortifies my manhood. Perhaps its the guarantee that my name will go on.Who knows. But I admit it, I am a man. A Punjabi man no less. And, right or wrong, I am proud to be having a boy.

Up until this morning, our pregnancy had been nothing more than a mental creation for me. For my wife, conversely, the reality of our baby was signaled quickly and rather ruthlessly by nausea, constipation, heartburn, gas and exhaustion. My life went relatively unchanged. But this morning was something special. I saw our baby move, grasp his little hands, open and close his mouth. I saw his face.

He is a precious, perfect reminder of both divinity and finitude. His frailty humbles. His perfection swells.I am happy to report that I have a new calling. To nourish, teach, encourage and love this beautiful new life. Life, as I know it, will never be the same. And I couldn’t ask for anything more.