As the happy day approached, we went to a check-out early in the morning. All packed and ready, we drive to the hospital and our doctor tells us it’s happening. Fast forward we get to our room and soon enough my wife goes to the delivery room.
Not being allowed to assist in this process, I am left to wander the corridors expecting it will take hours. Like being in an airport waiting for someone to arrive. Except you have no idea when it’s gonna happen and how the passenger is gonna look like.
After less than 2 hours, I got the news – it’s a healthy boy, wifey is fine but needs some more time to recover. If I want to, I can go and see my son soon.
After they drop the bomb, of course, they will make you wait. The anticipation is unbearable. Not only will I get to see him, but I will also hold him skin-on-skin. The way he crawls inside your arms, exploring with his little fingers is indescribable.
His soul has found a way to come close to my heart and there’s where he will remain until the end of days.