As 2016 rolls forward, I’m here again, trying to figure out
how to reboot this blog and where to start.
I guess I’ll start with the obvious, last year. It was a pretty good year, and as of now, I
think more of a preparatory year for things to come, than anything else. Still, some big and good things
happened.
Let’s start with some boring stuff! Millissa and I finally decided it was time to
get our own place. Having roommates was
a blast, but it has been super satisfying to make our own home. We also got a dog, Gaston, he’s french, eats
a lot of brie, drinks wine and won’t stop smoking in the house, other than that
he’s great. We didn’t name him Gaston,
but it is cute... until you are yelling it at the dog park and he’s completely
ignoring you. Really though he’s great,
except when he won’t get out of my side of the bed.
We did some traveling as well, Costa Rica in February,
Toronto, Chicago, Wisconsin/Michigan in August and Montreal in November. Had a blast on every trip visiting family and
new and old friends alike. Millissa and
I would be happy to get a bit more traveling in, but we’ll take what we can
get.
And the big, BIG news, which is already out in the world,
but I’ll go on at length a bit here. We
found out in early June Millissa is pregnant.
This is definitely welcome and exciting news for us. Those first months feel years away now, the
only real change was Mill taking frequent naps.
While on vacation in Chicago our friends tooks us on a boat tour, thanks
to the rocking of the boat Millissa was asleep within minutes. That is my strongest memory of trimester
one.
Then came trimester two.
Mill got her energy back, taught and did tons of AcroYoga and we debated
on a daily basis whether she was showing or not. Or more accurately, I said she was every time
she asked me. Again, this seems like
ages ago.
And then magically here we are, January 3rd going on 34
weeks and baby due next month. There are
no more debates about showing and a vast number of items have been purged from our
apartment and replaced with things like a stroller, a crib, a rocking chair and
so on. The other day Mill said something
along the lines of “let’s get this baby out, I want to see what this is going
to be like!”. My response, “hold on,
baby could still use a few weeks in the womb”.
I thought about this more, I mean of course we don’t want the baby to
come till it’s healthy and ready, but it is a strange limbo we are living in
this last month. Our reality is about to
experience a beautiful shift, which makes the one we are still living in seem a
bit opaque. We are enjoying it, sleeping
in when possible, but ready for what's next.
I imagine this is a common feeling for soon to be, first time parents;
as the time draws near and all the waiting is almost over, you really just want
it to be over, now!
The baby has got me thinking, of course, about many
things. The past, the future, what kind
of father will I be, how many toes will it have, will it be ok with being named
Sylvester? Like a number of events in
life, having a child and being a father, is something I didn’t think was much
of a possibility for me, for a long time.
For one, I was told after all the chemotherapy I received I was sterile
and even after regaining my physical health, fatherhood was the last thing on
my mind for years.
Yet, after years of seeking contentment and a renewed belief
in life and myself, here I am on the verge of another great milestone;
fatherhood and creating a family. I’ve
been healthy for years, but the eminent arrival of new life leads me back to
the time when I was fighting to keep my own life from slipping away. In a different way than in the in the past
though. To go from the verge of death,
to now, to being a part of creating a new life, it is a thought I can’t quite
wrap my head around yet, I don’t have the words for it. It seems like life is coming a bit more full
circle… in the best way imaginable.
Beyond comparing the past and the present, bringing a new
life into the world leads me to think about fatherhood. Leads me to think about who I am, what kind
of father I will be and the things I still struggle to let go of. Which brings me to another event from last
year.
I had a minor surgery, to remove a small cyst from my
stump. Don’t worry, pathology was run on
the cyst, no cancer at all. While this
really was a minor surgery I was still nervous, I hadn’t been to the doc for
anything beyond a regular checkup in years.
I kept putting the surgery off, but I knew it had to be done. When I met the surgeon for a pre-op
appointment, I thought she said two to three days off my prosthesis, when I
went in for the surgery she said, “oh no, minimum of 2-4 weeks”, which turned
into six weeks.
Those six weeks and the couple after readjusting to my prosthesis
were many things. For one, it was the
first time I had been without my prosthesis for more than a day or two, since I
started wearing it regularly almost ten years ago. Which is really where everything
started. I’m fine on crutches, I still
went to work, took the dog out and all that stuff, but you know me, this time
without my leg triggered a whole range of mental experiences.
The first week on crutches I was a wreck, it was like losing
a leg all over again. I didn’t want to
do anything or go anywhere. I was
getting angry about random little things continuously. Then I began to realize what was going on, I
wasn’t mad about the surgery, wasn’t mad about being on crutches and not being
able to use my prosthesis. I was mad
because I was realizing how much bogus meaning I had been putting on using my
prosthesis and how without it, I felt reduced to nothing. Which is nonsense, if anything my prosthesis
is nothing without me, not the other way around.
Once again I caught myself trying to mask over the things
I’ve lost rather than actually let them go.
It only makes sense, using my prosthesis and physical activity as yet
another thing to replace exactly what I lost, a leg. On top of my own desire to replace what I’ve
lost people like to see others overcome adversity, it gives them faith that
they can do it to. It also feels good to
be seen pushing yourself and “overcoming” what may be perceived as a
disability. All these things lead right
into the “tough guy” syndrome. But this
is only the half of it, and if I only focus on the physical side of things, I
fall right into our cultural trap of being tough and “walking it off”. Which denies me a chance to be vulnerable,
because when I’m “walking it off”, what I’m really doing is trying to live life
as if I haven’t lost what I’ve lost and lived through what I’ve lived
through. The only way to live like this
is to be tough on the surface and tore up inside, which is where I found myself
post surgery.
I think I’m coming to terms with the fact healing never
really ends, and as I peel away one layer another may form. While the time off my prosthesis definitely
threw me for a loop and led to some intense moments, I quickly found myself
saying, “ok, that’s no way to live”. The bottom line for me is to stop trying to live as if I
haven’t lost the things I’ve lost; I’ll never let go if I keep doing that. I have to live as if everything that has
happened to me has happened to me, which it has, duh! I had cancer, I lost a leg and I’m never
going to be happy about those two facts.
That’s ok though, I’m ok, more than ok.
Back to fatherhood.
This time post surgery left me wondering, how do I raise a child and
show them how to let go if I can’t do it myself? How do I show a child how to be vulnerable
and let them know they don’t always have to appear strong, if I can’t do that
myself? Well, you can’t teach someone
how to do something you don’t know how to do yourself, that’s for certain. But do I really not know how to do these
things? No, I’m just like everyone else;
sometimes I struggle, it’s only human.
Realistically, I’m more excited than anything for
fatherhood. I expect it to be an
incredible experience full of challenge and joy, much like I’m expecting the
coming year to be.
P.S. I said I lost things many times in this post,
but I’m not sure how much I’ve really lost anymore, I hear it's all about
perspective, and in reality I have quite a bit, whether I’ve lost things or
not. The key may be in letting the past
go; no matter how difficult it was, it’s still the past and the present is
pretty good.
