At the moment we are climbing the hill and we can see the end of this journey pretty clearly, especially after making her last six appointments with the doctors before her delivery date. At once, I find myself anxious, excited, sad, elated and terrified. I am saddest about losing our partnership, not that it evaporates but that our marriage is transcending a binary relationship, something that I have opined about in the past but as that day comes closer it feels all the more raw.

Honestly, it feels like I am about to lose my wife. A selfish response, maybe, but a real one. It has been her and I for nearly ten years and there have not been very many days when I have not been with her. So few I can count them on both hands with fingers to spare. When Gabriella comes that part of my life is irrevocably gone and our lives, as it should, will be about her and our new family. The slow walk to that day though is leaving me sleepless and prone to moments of self-absorbed drama like this one.

In this time I find myself less articulate or possibly more unmotivated to express myself. The laptop stays off after work, walks with the dog have become longer, and I sit watching my wife for long periods of time when she is preoccupied. At this rate by December I should be communicating only with feigned hand signals, walking the dog for a minimum of sixteen hours with the remainder of the time spent perched on the foot of the bed like a gargoyle looming over her sleeping body.

Well, before I break down completely I really should paint the baby’s room and assemble the crib. It’s the responsible thing to do.