Lately, the question keeps coming up more and more, “When are you having number 2?” Those words alone stir up the same feelings of both excitement and fear as when the question was first raised, “When are you two having a baby?”

Yes, I said fear. I tend to fall a bit toward the analytical side, to put it lightly. I can talk myself out of almost anything if I think about it long enough. Sometimes it’s a matter of brains vs. balls. When the Wife and I were trying for baby number one, my brain constantly juggled thoughts around my head like lottery balls. “What if” questions like… Will I be a good Dad? Will the baby be healthy? Will my wife be healthy? Will there be complications? What about college? Will we have enough money? Am I responsible enough? Am I too selfish? What the f**k am I getting myself into!?

The list was never-ending. In my mind, I was already playing out consequences 18 YEARS down the road! Deep down, I knew the answers to all those questions. Everything would be fine. Just breathe dummy. More balls, less brains…

Yet still, with the mere thought of trying for number two, the lottery balls started rattling again.

Yesterday, Jake started getting cranky just as Matt Damon’s film, The Hereafter was starting. I put Jake in the “Sideways Sleeper Hold”, and let him fuss in my arms a little while I watched the opening Tsunami sequence. It was so powerful I could not take my eyes off the screen! I popped the pacifier in his mouth, he calmed down, and now I was rapt with attention!

Onto the scene where Matt Damon, a psychic medium, is reading for a distraught husband who had recently lost his wife to disease. Damon is seeing this man’s wife, and repeating the most intimate details of their circumstances to the widowed man. After losing my Mom at an early age to Cancer, and seeing the pain my Dad went through, this scene was bitter-sweet to watch. I was practically tearing up as I saw this man starting to cry as he heard such comforting advice from his lost love.

I just happened to glance down at Jake, assuming he was out cold. What I saw were two of the sweetest little eyes staring right back at me. He had been watching me the whole time. Now all I could do was stare back at him. I whispered a long, gentle “shooooooosh”into his ear, and his little eyes slowly closed.

The emotion was almost overwhelming. The thoughts of losing my own parent followed with the absolute feeling of love as I held a living, breathing miracle, my own son, in my arms.

What if I had let my own fears and insecurities prevent that moment from ever happening!? 

After experiencing such a miracle, I think this is the only question I should focus on: Why would two parents whom are physically, emotionally, and financially capable of having another child, not try?

Two years ago, I couldn’t imagine having child. Two years later, it’s hard to imagine only having one. 

Hmm. Maybe Dads get “Baby Fever” too?:)