The Blog of Eli.

So, this past Saturday I was learning how to put together a Graco Pack 'n Play. Between 4 people and three degrees between us, you'd think that it would be a quick easy and painless affair. Not so.
The instruction manual was in three different languages-very hepful to the international community, but rather confusing to us who need one language.

Insert Rod A into Hole B.

(INSERT ROD A INTO HOLE B IN SPANISH)

(INSERT ROD A INTO HOLE B IN FRENCH)

(INSERT ROD A INTO HOLE B IN GERMAN)

Only after the four different languages was there a diagram of what that particular step was supposed to look like, and even then the diagram was a tiny picture that was extremely unclear. Eventually we threw the instruction booklet to the side and began inserting all the rods into various holes until the said play-pen was assembled. We all joked at how long it took us to complete it and that we had a few weeks before we actually had to use it.

That night Eli was born. At 1:59 a.m. my life changed as I knew it. Now, I realize that as cliched as these moments sound, the actual birth was nothing like I expected. It was loud and intimidating, and stressful...and I was worried sick about my wife who had been stuck with an epidural and was just as scared as I was. Both she and I were in a room filled with professionals there to do their jobs, and do it they did. In less than 5 minutes, Eli was born. I was speechless...but what made it incredible was the fact that my wife and her mother (who was allowed to accompany us in the OR) made the most interesting and beautiful sounds as Eli came out. (For those of you wondering, he emerged from his C-section incision, took a breath of air and promptly let out a screech so loud as to let the whole hospital know he was here...then he peed on the doctors.) At this point I am silent...listening to the unbridled joy that was my wife and mother-in-law. It was as if there was no way for them to verbalize the joy...it sounded as if they were both riding "The Racer" at King's Island...experiences the speed and dips and plunges of the track...but they weren't. They instantly loved him. While I was trying to figure out what they sounded like I was literally dragged over to the cleaning table with Eli on it and told by an attendant to "touch him, he;s your son." I timidly reached down and touched his chest which was very hot and warm. Then I knew how Amy and Marsha felt...I knew why they made those noises...I just cried.

It was emotional. I can't write it out. I didn't know him for nine months, then in an instant I loved him. That was my true introduction to fatherhood. Now...on to becoming a father...

Which I am...but I am still learning. The first two nights were interesting...no sleep was had by anyone...and we had the most trouble getting him to learn how to breastfeed. Sleepless nights (which I am writing through right now) are now to be expected, but I have learned something un-expected from all of this.

Throughout the advice given by family members, Lactation Consultants, Doctors, friends....one thing remains true: Whatever instructions you are given are not set in stone. There is no one way to raise a child...so "Inserting Rod A into Hole B" (even though that's how we got into this mess) may not be the ONLY way to do things. It doesn't take degrees. It doesn't necessarily take experience...it just takes time to learn how to raise a child. It also takes the love and support of a wonderful wife, as well as a wonderful family. I already have thought ahead to taking Eli to King's Island for the first time. Baseball, movies....but even through thinking of that...you take it one step at a time...and you always listen to what others say. But most of all, you do what you think needs to be done to help Eli above everyone else. The only instruction manual you need is the one you figure out. And boy oh boy, are we figuring it out.