MAKE ROOM FOR DADDY

                                       SANTA BARBARA'S A Martinez (Cruz Castillo)
                                 Shares His Feelings about Becoming
                                A Father For The First Time.

 

Last night we felt the baby move for the first time. Leslie went, "Oooh,"and a look of wonderment lit up her face. She put my hands on her belly and, sure enough, the little one kicked it. There's no doubt about it-we're about to become grown-ups.My instincts toward fatherhood were very lat blooming, even though it seemed obvious from the get-go that making babies is the most important thing people do. Beyond all the ancient philosophical and religious attempts to explain the meaning of life; beyond the various systems of modern self-realization we cling to for fulfillment; and in spite of our fearful posturing over our supposed differences, we are all bound together by the simple urge tu recreate ourselves. I've believed for a long time that the purpose of life is to give life. I could see it every-where I looked, but I couldn't see it in myself. For a while, I wondered if I was just too fun-loving and spoiled to accept the responsibility. But I realize now that I wasn't being lazy. I was just waiting to find the right partner. I was waiting for Leslie. So often when people try to get together it's with a sense of strings attached, as if we are saying, "I' ll love you, but only on the condition that you let me turn you into the person I really need." Out of our own sense of incompleteness and the illusion that it's possible for some other person to make us happy, we demand this new stranger start living up to a lifetime of our romantic fantasies. Leslie made no such demands.It was obvious her life was working just fine without me in it. Nevertheless, I could tell she was interested. I was interested, too. She reminded me recently that I started talking about having a family on the very first sight we spent together. That was a bit forward of me, I guess, but then again, what is a person supposed to talk about when confronted with the over-whelming sense of "coming home" that I felt with her? In Leslie's eyes,I saw my children and I was ready to talk turkey. Talk doesn't get it done, of course. We've been together five and a half years now- time enough to lay a good foundation for the family that is finally coming. I'm going to do everything I can to help my wife through this birth, though I confess it's a little scary to contemplate reality of it- that the baby is going to get even bigger before it decides to make its entrance. Women are brave to have babies, I think. Leslie was once a world-class breast-stroker, possessed of the guts to turn her telent into victories. We went swimming in the ocean today and I saw how she remains a master of her stroke. She completely understand the timing and subtle power of that weird frog-like kick that I could never quite get the hang of, and she looked great in the water, diving and zooming after the fish- her belly notwithstanding. IT was wonderful to watch her and to think of the baby swimming right along with us inside her.
After the little one's first kick last night, I've got the feeling that he or she is going to inherit its Mama's good strong legs. With any luck, it'll get her good strong heart, too.

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