Tomorrow morning, we are going to welcome my son into the world, Asher William Berg. I should be sleeping right now, but can't get myself to do it. Monica and I are excited, and I'll admit it, a little scared about the major surgery part. In some ways, we are handling it well, in others, we aren't.
There are a lot of pressures with a new baby, to take care of them, to make sure they are healthy, to be gentle with them, as they feel like they could be broken by the slightest thing. Then there's the pressure of raising him. I worry about teaching him to be good. Raising him to be strong and kind, aggressive in his endeavors, gentle in his relationships. To love those around him, and be honest.
I worried about that with Annika, but for some reason, I also didn't feel pressured about her. Maybe it's because I feel like I need to be the role model for him and I fear I will not live up to hype. Maybe I feel a little more accutely, on the eve of his birth, my own failures, my own short-comings, and pray that the shadows of my past do not haunt him. Of course, a lot of cliches are also going through my head, that he will 'forge his own path,' the 'sins of the father' and all that. What I really want is what all fathers have wanted, that he's healthy, happy, and everything goes well.
Nothing has given me more pleasure than watching my daughter discover the universe, one step, one episode of Dora, one Pirate, one b'byes, one Monster, one Gymnastics class, one Baby, one hug on the dog, one Band-Aid at a time. I don't know what Asher has for this world. I don't know what this world has for Asher. I do know that our world is going to get just a tad bit bigger, more fulfilling, more rich, than we ever thought possible and I can't wait to share that with him. I am grateful that God is granting us this opportunity to share this world with two wonderful children.