Why Hello There.

Why hello there. When did you get here?

There it is. Taylor Thomas Haberstroh's first baby picture and the image that completely rocked my world. No, Becky's pregnancy wasn't a surprise. In fact, it was planned and planned and then planned some more. The surprise was that we were actually capable of such a thing.

See, this wasn't our first rodeo. Two prior pregnancies ended very early in the process, both within a few weeks of the double pink line showing up on the test (the first one ended on Super Bowl Sunday 2009). Those were trying times for both of us. Morale was so low for so long that I'm convinced that the only thing that saved us was the decision to add this little monster to the family:

Joey fears no fence.

After months of charting temperatures and planned "attempts" at pregnancy (that sure was fun), neither of us could take our eyes off the defined outline of what's clearly a human being cooking in Becky's bread basket, and it was at the same time exhilarating and terrifying.

We did it! It's gonna work this time! Or will it? Shit, what if this one fails too? Do we try again? Stop, this one's gonna stick. What kind of Dad am I gonna be? Will Becky be a good Mom? Can we really afford this? What should she be eating to make sure he's 6'4" 225 and throws a 102 mph fastball with pinpoint accuracy (no pressure, kid)? Shit, what if this one fails too? I mean, we're at the magic 13 week point (80% of miscarriages occur before 12 weeks) and if it doesn't work this time I'm not sure Beck will have the strength to try again. I said stop it! We're gonna do this!

Phew. Those were the questions and emotions I dealt with for a long time. I can't remember at what point exactly the walking on egg shells feelings subsided and the feelings of utter victory and confidence took over, but I think it was around 18 weeks when we saw this:

Yes! He's still in there and he's a he and holy shit look at the flexibility on this guy!  

I literally cried tears of joy when the Ultrasound Technician told us that the little thing poking out between his legs was a penis. Up to this point, all the Old Wives' Tales symptoms said we were having a girl, which I was totally cool with. We both were hoping for a boy, but honestly, we both would have been just as stoked to raise a girl. Really. After everything we'd been through just getting to this point, all I was hoping for was a healthy human being. But it's a boy. A freakin BOY! A little man to toss balls to and go fishing and hiking and camping with. The thought of Daddy and Son trips back east every fall for Redskins and Penn State football weekends was almost too much to bear. I was so overcome with the idea of being a father to a little boy that I couldn't even wait to get out of the doctor's office to spread the word. Screw you Old Wives, we win!

Beck at approximately 29 weeks.

A lot has happened between then and now (like the emergency appendectomy Beck endured at 22 weeks), but here we are. 35 weeks and counting. A mere 2 weeks away from full-term and the beginning of this journey into Fatherhood. The baby showers have passed and the nursery is about 90% together. There are birthing plans to be written (Becky will be delivering using the Hypnobabies birthing method while I try to stay conscious. Just kidding babe.), and hospital bags to be packed. We still need to find a pediatrician.

Soon, instead of sitting around watching Taylor try to push through his mommy's belly, we'll be sitting around watching him try to crawl. Instead of anticipating his next bout of hiccups in the womb, we'll be anticipating his next step, his next word, and his next trip to the big boy potty.

I can't wait to share all of those things here, and hopefully we can figure out just what the %$@* Fatherhood really means.