A year ago today, I held my son in my arms for the first time. Bram’s birth was one of those moments that struck me hard: I remember gasping and crying in joy when I first saw him: after months of a conceptual baby, there he was, in the flesh. It’s easy, looking back at just how pivotal that moment is: one moment, I’m just this guy. The next, I’m a father. With that moment, everything changes.
Becoming a father has been an extraordinary experience. Megan has mentioned, more than once, that we’ve lucked out and had a good baby. Bram is an astonishing little boy. The degree to which he’s unpacked and unfolded his mind from his fragile, 7.3 lbs body to the, durable, walking 25lb child that he’s become never ceases to blow my mind a little each time I think about it. He went from staring to smiling to squeaking to shrieking to cooing to babbling to talking. The twisting turned into rolling over, then to pulling himself across the floor, to the army crawl, to proper crawling and pulling himself up to stand. That turned from tentative first steps to full out waddle-running across the room.
Throughout it all, there’s a burning curiosity and the beginnings of a fierce independence. He looks and examines things, imitates our actions and slowly, is learning how the world around him works. It’s impossible to remember a time when I learned so much so quickly, and I’m surprised at just how fast it happens: often just days from seeing or trying something before he masters it. Doors hold a particular fascinationfor him, as does Merlin, although he learned that cats have claws and don’t like to be cornered. The cat has also learned that the male human is fiercely protective of the tiny human.
I find myself thinking about things in ways that I’d never have considered before. I look into the future to try and think about what type of world Bram will inherit, sometimes terrified at what I see, sometimes optimistic.
The last year has brought so many changes. It’s exhausting, trying to keep up with Bram, or to wake up early in the morning or late at night. My heart absolutely breaks when he’s sad or in pain, while it soars when he laughs without restraint. He’s a strange child, and it’s interesting to see how he’s developing his own ways of doing things.
He’s barely 12 months old and I can’t wait to see what he does next.