I have had my share of experience with bad fathers. My biological father was a rising basketball star who was sunk by addiction to drugs and alcohol. My stepfather was an egomaniacal tyrant and momma's boy. Both were physically and emotionally abusive to my mother. After their respective divorces, each man did his utmost to dodge any responsibility to their children. Later in life, they each made chastened attempts to establish relationships with their once inconvenient children, who now as adults, had no room for these men and their belated attempts to become relevant in their lives. Unfortunately, I've seen similar patterns of self-obsessed, immature and irresponsible men repeat itself in the lives of close family and friends. I consider myself pretty damned lucky not to have repeated that pattern in my own life.
How did I dodge that bullet? Again, I cannot use the word "lucky" enough. For most of my adult life, I have been involved with one man. We didn't start off with the best of circumstances, and we certainly were dealing with considerable levels of batsh*t crazy for several of those early years. But I found in this man someone I could grow with, and someone I could always learn something from, precisely because he's always striving to learn and grow. He makes me feel loved and accepted and important to him every day. I am a better person for having him in my life.
Are we still crazy? Sometimes, but now it's more of a crazy garnish rather than an all-you-can-eat 24 hour buffet of crazy. Or a sorbet palate cleanser of crazy, like you get between courses at fancy weddings. But I digress...
During this pregnancy, arguably one of the most emotionally and physically taxing experiences I've ever gone through, he has more than been there for me. He has been an active participant in every step of this pregnancy, listening, feeling, understanding. There has not been one thing he hasn't been willing to take interest in, entertain or try out to further the goal of making this whole process easier for me. All the while, he is the sole breadwinner, working his ass off with an hour commute each way. Then he comes home and checks to see if there's anything he can do for me to make me more comfortable. "Supported" isn't even a strong enough word to describe how I feel about his participation in this pregnancy, and it gives me such incredible confidence in his future as a father.
I have no doubts that there will be times that the responsibilities of parenthood are going to fall more heavily on me as the mom. But if this experience reflects on what the future holds, I know I will never feel alone.
Rob, I love you and you're my best friend. I am truly honored to be having your baby.