Soft Hearted Man

Women are thought to be the sensitive ones in our male-testosterone-chest-bumping fueled society.  I myself, a chest-bumping-testosterone-fueled-male, have learned what some broad shouldered-big bearded men may call "womanly" traits.  After enduring a long, tumultuous, excitement driven nine months of pregnancy, my wife and I have found ourselves basking in all of the joy and poo a child brings.  Now completely out numbered four (two boy dogs included) to one, my wife is still the champion of the household and master of calm and cool (minus the lingering "baby brain").  Our four week old boy, Micah James Bresson, doesn't know that although we have only known one another a short time, already we have been through quite a lot.
You see, this blog was intended to have been published back in November, after I had regained composure and felt abundantly certain that the prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome was truly something that would force changes in my life.  It did change my life.  For the best.  Forever.  I know now more than I ever thought possible to know about trisomy 21.  My tolerance was tested throughout the pregnancy.  My soul was searched for meaning.  My judgment altered.  My faith strengthened.  I learned forgiveness.  I learned compassion.  The humility that I pray for felt so far away, but it felt right.
At the moment of birth our hospital room was filled with a dozen upper echelon doctors and nurses who were all present for the treatment of any one of the many at-birth-complications a baby with Down syndrome is faced with.  "It's a baby!" one of the highly qualified doctors proclaimed.  "No, it's a boy!" exclaimed one of the overly qualified nurses.  Immediately after being forced into this world a few days early, Micah was rushed to an in-room exam crib to be poked, prodded, and cleaned up.  After they had decided it was in fact a baby boy, a brief moment later we were given the okay for him to have skin to skin time with Mommy.  It was during this time that the geneticist and cardiologist began saying our boy didn't have Down syndrome.  My heart sank.  What of all the things I had prepared for?  All of the hopes and dreams I had diminished.  I was intertwined with despair.  Why not us?  Did I not prepare enough?  Did God not think I could hack it?  Our OB reassured us that there was still a chance for Down.  Hope rushed back.  Then, just as soon as hope came back, it left.  Excitement rushed in.  Excitement for all the new different possibility's this Micah person, whom I had just met, would have throughout his life.

After living with Micah for just over a week we received test results determining that he did not carry an extra chromosome.  Although his extra chromosome is not a part of our life, all of the wisdom gained and new friendships made from the experience will be forever.  I would not trade the false positive prenatal Down syndrome diagnosis we had for the universe.  It is one of the highlights of my life, and a true learning experience.  Lesson #16 of being your own man:  Embrace and explore emotions, but keep them in a bottle... a very big bottle.