August 15, 2001
Little heartbeat big news
By GARRET LEIVA
Herald editor
For the past five days, life has been flashing before my eyes. Strangely, it is a life I've never led - yet.
This February I will join the unlikely ranks of Adam, Ozzie Nelson and Homer J. Simpson. One singular word will change the complexity of life forever: fatherhood. Or the equally profound two syllable version known as 'da-da.'
Unbeknownst to family and friends, my wife and I have known about the big news since our July vacation. It was a discovery that made the Grand Canyon pale in comparison; no easy feat. Something equally arduous was not telling anyone. Since we were staying with her parents, keeping the EPT results on the QT meant fibbing ASAP.
Instead, we agreed to tell people about the pregnancy on a need to know basis. However, the need for others to know was too great for one of us. Suffice it to say that same person also unwrapped their presents twice each Christmas as a child. Myself, I like surprises; especially if it means keeping others in the dark. I'm not one to spill my guts or the beans.
However, after hearing 160 heart beats per minute that are not your own, no one can stay silent. Even if you are left speechless.
So without further ado, this past weekend the fetus was let out of the amniotic bag - so to speak. The Charette clan was holding a family reunion so we took the opportunity to introduce the newest member. We chose to tell my parents, however, over egg rolls and prophetic "You will become grandparents on Valentine's Day" fortune cookies. The rest of this week has been spent making more phone calls than a MCI telemarketer; without all the hangups.
Naturally, we also broke the news to our furry, four-legged child. Upon hearing the heartbeat, Corky licked the tape recorder - a harbinger of tongue baths to come. I'm just worried about squeaky toy sibling rivalry.
Of course, I should probably get used to worrying. After all, it comes with the parenthood territory; along with "because I said so" mountain ranges and "grounded for life" valleys. Thankfully, traversing the state of parenthood is a journey, not a destination. Which means I can stop and ask for directions, despite having a pair of XY chromosomes.
Admittedly, it has been hard to concentrate on anything but thoughts of the unforeseeable future. Boy or girl, blue or brown eyes, Ivy League or Big Ten: life keeps flashing before my daydreaming eyes. Unfortunately, there are the occasional nightmares involving a minivan key with my name on it.
Over the past few years, Father's Day has taken on a new connotation as my childhood friends started having children. Now the third Sunday in June will never be the same. Although the idea of fatherhood seems so surreal since I still adhere to the three second rule concerning dropped cookies. However, being a father means I can stand in the toy aisle without self-consciously looking over my shoulder.
Undoubtedly, the next six months will go by in the blink of an eye. Prenatal checkups, Lamaze classes, gastronomic midnight runs mixed in with Thanksgiving, Christmas and, oh yeah, Happy New Year. All of which can be summed up in a singular word: chaos. Fortunately, it will be extreme confusion in a good way.
However, if the din of uncertainty reaches a feverish pitch all I have to do is listen to my heart - all 160 beats per minute.
Grand Traverse Herald editor Garret Leiva can be reached at 933-1416 or e-mail gleiva@gtherald.com.