My baby boy Dorian Monet arrived on Wednesday, December 10th, at 11:32am via c-section. It was not my choice, but "the best-laid plans of mice and men/often go awry" and though I hoped and hoped and did everything possible to encourage him to turn, my baby stayed breech right to the last minute and the decision was out of my hands. Still, I am thankful for a very uneventful delivery and an even easier recovery. Dorian Monet is completely perfect, an angel. He is sweet and happy and smiles all the time. He is a curious baby whose eyes open wider each day as he marvels at all around him. I love just spending time watching him. I love catching his smiles. I love playing with him.
But I've also begun to worry, sometimes secretly and sometimes aloud, about his future, our future, how our choices will affect him, how we need to be the best parents we can be, and how we have so much to learn. I feel like my life begun again at the moment my son was born and with it such responsibilities to take life a lot more seriously, or at least to find my path and follow it, instead of just floating through. It's an amazing feeling, this, which fills me so completely, it sometimes overwhelms me.
