After The Honeymoon

13. Fatherhood

"I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren't trying to teach us." - Umberto Eco

Salman

She needs to tell me something?

I could feel my heartbeat become more rapid at the thought of what that something might be, but before I could question her further, Noor reached out and looked at the wound on my forehead.

Her tender touch already soothing the pain, she surveyed the broken skin. "It's not too deep, probably just needs some steri strips to hold it together. I can bandage it when we get home."

"Thanks." I smiled at her, still unsure of how I should react to the bigger news I thought she was going to drop on me.

She must have been thinking about the same thing, because she just silently looked out of the window on our drive back home. And in a way I was glad, because I needed to think about a few things before we broached the subject of 'children'. 

First, there was fear. The last time she was pregnant in the flu season, she ended up on the ventilator and had to undergo a crash c-section. Now, we were heading into yet another flu season, plus the threat of COVID was ever-looming, and she was a Peds ICU fellow, taking care of the sickest of the sickest patient. But, she was also vaccinated against both the flu and COVID, and she had promised that she would not run into patients rooms without proper gear on.

Second, there was panic and a constant feeling of being overwhelmed. Our first baby was just about to turn two. We had always struggled with her childcare, and now with Noor back to working 70-80 hours per week, plus my research/clinical work ramping up, taking care of a second child seemed impossible. I mean, we had been so overwhelmed I had literally forgotten my child in the car. Was a I really ready to be a father to a second child?

"Thank God our street hasn't been affected too badly," Noor remarked, when we reached our house. It was unaffected for the most part other than some broken branches littering our front yard.

"Yeah, that's more than I say for my car." 

"What are we going to do with one car?" she asked, worry etched on her face. Our schedules were so tight, we heavily depended on independent travel. 

"We'll figure it out," I reassured. There was a lot of figuring out we needed to do with 'children' in the future.

None of the mattered to little Ayah though. All she knew when she saw me was that her dad was home. "Babaaa!!" she joyfully ran to me when I went to the neighbor's house to get her, her chubby arms wrapping around me. 

"Baba's baby!" I picked her up and swirled her around. 

It was apt reminder of other emotions that 'children' invoked.

Excitement. I was going to be a father, again! There would be not one, but two little versions of their beautiful Mama running into my arms. There would be double the laughter, double the cheerful sound of little footsteps running around the house, double the wet, slobbery kisses, cuddles and warm embraces.

How could one not be excited about that?

Love. Noor and I would have another symbol of our beautiful love. Love that was infinite, and if we raised our children right would last from generation to generation. If Noor was pregnant, we would have another child to love completely, and unconditionally, and in return, be loved and adored by them - hopefully even when they are rebellious teens.

It hit me, as I stood in the hallway outside our door - The cost of having another child was more anxiety and the constant struggle to maintain a work-life balance. The reward, I was beginning to realize, was priceless.