We’re having a boy.
I remember telling you by putting together a little gift. Complete with a baby sized football and little varsity jacket we had bought back when I was pregnant with Charlotte.
Yes I’m sure. No I’m not joking.
I went and found out on my own because I was so nervous. I knew how much you wanted a son and I really wanted to complete our family with a little boy. And we did.
And for five months you imagined all of the things you would do with our son. Everything you would teach him.
First on the list: how to build things. It’s what your dad taught you growing up. And now you would teach your own little boy.
I knew your dreams of him playing high-school football like you did. Or maybe even following after your footsteps career wise.
I saw the pride in your eyes when you held him in the NICU. I saw all the hopes you had for our son and all your determination to make them come true.
When I was pregnant you would always say how he was gonna be your little buddy. And as soon as he was born I could feel your child like anticipation for him to grow just enough to be your sidekick.
And then in what feels like a second, everything shifted.
Our little boy was born blind. And at 3.5 months old we discovered he may never play football in high-school like you did, and he will never follow in your footsteps career wise. Building things would not only be extremely difficult, it would be extremely dangerous.
Everything you had imagined for a son disappeared.
But yet I still saw the pride in your eyes when you held your little boy. I still saw all the hopes you had for our son and all your determination to make them come true.
I still knew everyday that he was and always will be, your little buddy.
Thank you for loving our little man unconditionally.
Happy Father’s Day James.
Happiness Is Blind 