(Lots of baby and pregnancy talk in this one)

Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve updated. I know all two of you have been on pins and needles, so this is the day you’ve been waiting for!

Prior to our unscheduled visit to Labor and Delivery at 23 weeks, we were in Portland visiting my cousin, his wife, and their 8 month old baby (Baby L). I have to say, time, situations and perspective is a interesting beast.

My cousin and his family are wonderful, thoughtful, beautiful people who I look forward to spending time with, but in 2008 I simply couldn’t. When they announced a surprise pregnancy prior to moving to Portland, it was like a knife in my chest. You’ve read about that feeling on every IF blog, so I don’t need to repeat it. You get the idea. They moved to Portland shortly after that, and I was glad to not be involved in bump watch.

Their baby was born in Sept. of 2008 and, to me, represented the pain, loss, and un-rewarded efforts in our struggle with infertility.  They came to visit family for Christmas/New Years that year. Shelby should have been due any day, and we should have been beaming to see them and their adorable baby. To make a long story short, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to see them. It was too hard. I felt awful about making a lame excuse and not going to see family visiting from another state, but I knew that we needed to protect ourselves.

Now, present day, I find myself sitting on an airplane that is taking us to see my cousin for the first time in over a year. Those feelings of last year are a memory now and have been replaced with pure excitement of seeing his new baby. I have a special relationship with my cousin, he’s the only person (besides Shelby, of course) that I feel comfortable, and open enough to stay up until 4 AM drinking scotch and talking about anything and everything (ok, the scotch helps). Our conversations range from light heart-ed and jovial to some heavy, deep shit. I tend to shy away from these conversations with most other people, because frankly, I don’t give a crap about what they have to say. They either have no life experience, come from a perspective I do not support, or simply just want to talk at me. My cousin on the other hand, will listen, absorb, and understand.

I’m excited to see him and his family for many reasons and one reason is very new to me. I’m excited to see their baby. What the hell? I’m excited to a baby?! This is a weird feeling to say the least. With our baby due in November, I actually find myself looking forward to getting a crash course in baby. It’s a funny place to be… Shelby and I have spent countless dollars and effort to have a baby, and I’ve really NEVER been around one. I have ZERO experience with one.

I’m also excited to see him and have a single, very important conversation. I want to share our battle with infertility with them. This is one of the few couples that Shelby and I feel comfortable enough to bring them into the loop. As soon as we arrived, the baby talk commenced. The more we talked about baby stuff, the need to share our story grew. I simply couldn’t have the baby conversations without having them know where ours came from. Hours after landing, I find myself telling our story, sharing pictures of our two transferred blasts, and sipping a iced white mocha at Starbucks. While pausing at the end of our story, after explaining how hard it would have been to see them during the holidays, I brace myself for their reaction. This is one of the first times we  explained our struggle, and I prepared myself for the response. As we all know, they can range from ignorant, to rude, to invalidation.

Their response? Complete sympathy and respect for our battle. While they couldn’t understand everything we went through, they sympathized with how hard it must have been on us. They were amazed at how hard we tried, and how strong we are though the battle. They were in awe of the procedures, pictures, and efforts.

It was exactly the response I would have wanted, dare I dreamed of one. Sure, the “fertile” baby talk and advice flowed, but at least they knew our story. They knew the story of our baby growing in Shelby’s belly and that was what mattered to me. Over the course of our visit, and many glasses of scotch, my cousin and I talked about our battle and how hard it has been. It was a weight off my shoulders to talk about this freely.

Only after those conversations were out of the way did I completely open myself up to their baby. This was the first time around her, and I completely let her past all of my built up and hardened baby-defenses. I saw a small hint of what my love will be like for my own baby and it floored me. I didn’t know it was possible to get any more excited about November, but I am. I was worried that I’d have no idea what to do or act around a baby, but my fears were laid to rest. My time with their baby was wonderful. I even managed to postpone a full on baby meltdown by just doing what felt natural.

The trip was worth the visit, in every way. I learned one, important thing about myself that help calm my fears of our own baby.

I will be a good father.