‘Babe, I think I’m Pregnant’

I cannot recall where we were when I first heard these words. I have watched many a TV show where a distressed looking lady informs the clueless father-to-be that his life is about to take a major turn. I’m sure you have too.

The poor chap will first lose all his IQ and basic ability to understand English, so he will ask something akin to, ‘What do you mean?’. So the girl breaks it down for him by announcing that she has missed a couple of her Periods, hence, the aforementioned suspicion of pregnancy.

His next move is to presuppose that she may have lost understanding of the foundational biology of her own body, so he asks, ‘Are you sure?’. Now she starts getting agitated, and asserts that she’s taken numerous pregnancy tests, and they all came out positive, so yeah, she thinks she’s pretty sure!

Out of the blues, his IQ re-emerges, and not just that, he instantly becomes a medical professional. ‘You know’, he says, ‘These tests aren’t always conclusive, and you’ve been a bit stressed lately so that could have affected your cycles’. Now she’s plain dumbfounded by his buffoonery, and asks, ‘What are you trying to say?’. ‘Well,’ he continues, ‘I’m saying we shouldn’t jump to conclusions here. Aren’t there like blood tests for these things that are 100% conclusive?’. And on and on it goes.

It wasn’t like that for me.

The moment my girlfriend pronounced these earth shattering words, I knew it was true. She pretty much had a monologue that ended up with us going for the fool proof blood tests, which confirmed that yes, she was pregnant indeed. I remember the nurse congratulating us, to which we simply nodded and mumbled our wistful thanks.

She was 23, just settling into her first job after graduating. I was 25, and in many respects, still a Child.

Sex took on a whole new meaning from there henceforth. Every cent I made now went through a thorough screening test before it was expensed. Every life decision I made moving forward would have to factor in two other human beings. It was daunting, it was terrifying, it was inexplicable.

A few months later, I am standing in this nursery at the Mater Hospital, looking down at a chubby, impossibly light skinned, calm looking little person, who I assume was reconsidering her decision to enter this confusing world. My first words to her were, ‘Hi, I’m Alex, your father. It’s nice to meet you’. I then shook her tiny little hand, our first physical contact.

She would become the apple of my eye, the reason I woke up early and went to bed late. In my eyes she could do no wrong, I mean, how could she? I knew, just knew, that there was no alternative reality where I would choose a path that didn’t lead to her.

As I write this, she’s a gregarious, curious and vivacious 12 year old who lights up my world even when she’s driving me up the wall.

Being a Father, a Husband, a Man, introduced me to something else, something deeper, which I have come to understand as Joy. Joy is choosing to die so another can thrive. Joy is seeing love come to life right before your eyes.

Joy, I discovered, is not a function of things going your way (that would be Happiness), nor is it the good feelings triggered by an action (that would be Pleasure). Joy is a state of alignment, alignment with the rhythm of life, sailing with the ebbs and flows that come with human existence.

Joy doesn’t happen to you.

Joy is a Choice.