The News

It's raining this Sunday. Today marks the 8th day that I've known I was going to be a dad. I'm trying to decided how to begin the story. The story really starts about a year ago. E and I have been living in this small Italian city. We first came here in December of 2004. I was transferred from the North of Italy down here. Our first night in town we walked around the borgo antico listening to Christmas Carols piped into outdoor speakers. White lights were strung across the pedestrianized streets and while it was cold and damp it felt very festive and warm to the soul. We decided at that moment that we could live here for a year and-a-half or so. But the project had other ideas and our transition to formally living here dragged on as I had to schlep around to other projects to kill time. While my project was delayed we were living in various hotels on a deserted winter beach, biding our time. All of our wordly belongings were in the outer room of our exaggerated...uh uh suite. I tried to lighten the mood by; taking pictures of us in the wine cellar picking out wines, E and sitting on the bed opening a bottle; taking pictures of us in the theater, us sitting on the bed watching DVDs on my laptop; us in the living room reading, us sitting on the arm of the couch in the outer room that wasn't covered with luggage; and me tuning the bikes in the garage, me sitting on the floor of the outer room pumping up E's Bianchi's tires.

It wasn't the best and brightest days of our marriage. We were fine, content to close ourselves off to the outer world and coexist within our bubble, but it was painfully obvious that this on-the-road lifestyle was getting old. When we moved to a newer but smaller hotel we started thinking about starting a family. E's logic was, as long as we were on the road and not tied down to any one locale, then it was an ideal time to start working on 'the little guy' as we commmonly referred our future child/ren. That was March 2005.

Its a process, working towards having kids. Its not delved into lightly, well, not when you do it consciously. E, like many women, had been on 'the pill' and she was well read regarding time frames from going off the pill to trying to conceive. I still remember the day she DIDN'T take her pill. I remember not being nervous about the road we were taking the first step on, but thinking, 'shit, I've got to buy condoms.' Not having faced this for several years; percentages, techniques and casual ways to browse condoms at the pharmacy all rushed to the forefront of my suddenly 18-year old brain. (To be fair I had a lot of fun with it. At 28, gone was the embarassment of purchasing condoms. Gone was the need to disguise my single-minded mission at the pharmacy. Gone was the need to pick up some razors, cream, lip balm, toothpaste and Reese's Pieces along with the 12 pack. I induced hits on the arm when I asked E to pick out some Durex and when she couldn't choose said, "Maybe the sales lady can help us. Ma'am do you think these blue ones will fit me?" And "how are the kids wearing them today? I've been out of the game for a while..low, high, rolled, faded?")

So now, 8 days in, I'm solid. No, really, I'm ok. I've been preparing mentally for this for almost a year. I was a facilitator. I gave my best men to the effort and I look forward to being the best father I can.