From the diaries of an expectant man
من مذكرات رجل على شفا الأبوّة

WHAT??
Your date is between 18 and 25...
Today?
Are you serious?
We're not ready..


I have to fix my digital camera...

I have to buy a video camera..

I have to finish the mouse experiment's Excel table...

I need to do some graphs...

I have to publish some posts...

We have a serious meeting tomorrow...

Your mom's mom is coming tomorrow...

Are you starting with a surprise?

Is it true or false alarm...


Today?

When are you coming?
Seriously...
we now can feel your body from outside.

Is this your head? Your legs? Your.. rear???

You're so big now...
When are you coming?

Your mom says: "I really wish to see you"...

Some serious questions now started to impose themselves on us...

How you will look like?
What kind of smile will you have?
ًWe are curious..

You can be many things. Yes you will have dark hair and eyes.. But how things will come together?

I really wish you won't be as cranky as I am.
Don't cry a lot.
Smile and take things the way your mother does.
Don't be pessimistic please...

and..
What will we really call you?

We're out of creativity..

Karim?
Nader?
Bassem?
ZOUZOU.. that's your best nickname ever

Yesterday we have had the greatest ultrasound,
you're now a big boy!
Your heart is beating,
your gender was again confirmed,
your legs moving,
your hands waiving,
your spine so strong.

It was a great joy for me, your mom, and your grandparents who are seeing you for the first time.

(I need some time to scan the photos)

My son,
my new friend,
my latest discovery,
and my never-ending passion,

I wish I could spare you the difficulties of this crazy world.
Will you blame me when, one day,
with a heart broken by love, or pain…
or a body broken by sickness…
or a soul broken by sin, you will ask yourself and point your finger to me and to Our Father: "Why did you bring me to this world?"

I wish I--myself--can find an answer to this question.

What else could I have done? What else could I have delivered to you rather than this gift of life,
this amazingly disturbing and unexplainable gift.
The only alternative would have been not to have you at all, not to unite together.
Every time you will blame me for bringing you to life…
Every time you will ask the difficult questions…
Remember one thing:
we are giving what we received,
a love from a greater love,
we are flowing with an overwhelming flow that we cannot comprehend,
that we enjoy in suffering and comfort,
in difficulties and ease,
in moments of birth and death,
growth and stabilility,
joy and sorrow,

This is a part of the mystery of love,
Maybe you’re the one who will solve the mystery,
or at least—and I am sure you will be—the one who will add a great stroke to life’s masterpiece.

Today we saw you for the third time. The ultrasound showed us your beating heart, exercising to get you on your own once you're out in this world.
They measured your head, your spine, your legs.
They looked at your face, your kidneys, and your stomach.

This is a great gift for your mother's birthday (tomorrow).

The nurse said you are most probably a boy.
A boy!

All kind of images came to my mind.
My father and me: holding my hand by the Alexandria shore. Telling me stories: stories about sea.. about waves.. about infinity..

I too want to hold your hand. I really want to hug you as little a baby as you will be, to walk with you when you become a little child, to tell you stories about this world and all the worlds.
I want you to fly with the wings of imagination,
to run untamed, but safe.
I know--and I keep repeating it--that you're not mine. You're nobody's. You are yourself and you only belong to Him who is your source and your destiny.

I dream of seeing you grow up. I see you running by the sea shore... Looking at the infinity, sailing everywhere, asking what is beyond this sea.. beyond that sky.
I am sorry. I cannot spare you from my personal imagination. I know you may be totally different. I know you may be hyperactive, athletic, and you may hate staring at the sea. I love you for that and I will respect it, or so I hope. You are not my extrapolation, nor my shadow.
However, I cannot but see you with my eyes. Tomorrow you will teach me another lesson about love.
You will teach me another tough one about respect.
But today… let me dream for a while.

I know I cannot keep you safe. I cannot hide you in my wings, although I wish I could. But, after all, who am I to protect you? I cannot even protect myself. It is hard for you to hear this from your father: your ultimate model, according to the know-it-all psychologists. But I cannot lie to you. Only one can protect you: He who I wish will take your hands all along your life course. He whom I wish you meet and learn to love, and I am sure you will. He will never abandon you, in the heart of the toughest pain.

I have to let you go, step by step, slowly, without escaping a bit my responsibility, to chaperone you until you reach the point where you continue your trip alone.

My son... (My son! Wow! How does it sound?)

ٌToday we had our first glimpse on you.
I was so concerned: will we see anything? Was it a false pregnancy? Are you still alive?
I was also concerned that the stupid ultrasound will bother you or affect your genes or cells.

But, finally, we did see you.
Surprise??
We knew you're almost two-weeks-old. How big can you be?
Yes.. we knew you would be that small, but it's never like seeing it.
Oh God!
I know that pregnancy is a very trivial thing; almost everybody has it. But, for us, it's the first time and--so far--it seems so amazing.
You're that small and you can grow and become a person.. a human.

Today, your mother had a minor bleeding.
Being the inexperienced parents we are, we were so scared. We didn't tell each other our greatest fear: what if it was a stillbirth?

Will you be OK and safe? What if you--God forbid--never saw the light of this world. Was it a dream in vein? An "unfinished" project, an "unachieved" task?

No..
You would already have touched our hearts. You would already have prepared us for more love and more humbleness regarding the mystery of this life. You would already have taught us a lesson about the value of an unborn child, and the meaning of other people's sufferings and struggles.