The Wins of the Father

I’m going to take this as a brief moment to wax emotional. This isn’t the way I usually write on here, but I just feed like there’s no choice left to me. I am happy. I understand this might be a bit of a cliché, but out of all of the sights and experiences of my thirty-one years of life, this sight is by far the greatest thing I have ever seen:
Welcome Nova Joy-Francis Jones to the world! She is nearly two weeks old and she has completely pulled me away from everything I was before. Even though she is such a tiny being, the size of the love and light she has brought to me is incalculably enormous. I am truly in love and that love is reflected in my friends and family at every turn. It is truly intoxicating, yet eye-opening. I’ve heard of this feeling as being described as “true joy” and more formally as a “love rush,” but I have taken to calling it being “baby drunk.” I really feel as though I could take on the world as long as I know I’m making it a better place for her. I understand the vast majority of people feel very strongly about their offspring and everyone has their story, but I’ll give you of mine:

I am my father’s only blood son. I have eight siblings, one through my mother, two through marriage and five through adoption, but I am the only one he created. I’m not saying this to diminish my relationships with my siblings. I love them very much and they are my siblings no matter what through bonds just as thick as blood. They are loved and treated this way by myself and everyone else in my family. Those are the exact sentiments I’m basing this on when I say family is important to my father. As the biggest role model in my life, his sensibilities and principles have always been a big deal to me. I’ve worked hard to live by the example he has shown me and I have come to believe family is among the most important things in the world. There are a few differences between our paths, but our core principles remain largely the same.

This remained true all the way into my teenage years when I had what most would refer to as a “pregnancy scare.” Not many people know about this incident because of my age, but I feel like it’s necessary to share in this story. I knew I was too young to handle the responsibility that was going to come as the result of my actions and I went through a brief depression while trying to figure out what I could possibly do to take care of my child. As I said, the emphasis on family throughout my life made things like abortion and adoption unbearable to even think about. The problem was resolved however, when it turned out to untrue. There was no child and I could be much more careful in the future.

A short time later, I found myself desperate for cash, so I gave plasma as attempted to sell sperm as a quick fix. This was when I was given the news that my sample was unusable and if I want children I should seek medical help. This devastated me and I found out later that it was the result of a hormonal imbalance that was likely hereditary. That was a part of my life when I buried myself in my creativity, feeling that if I couldn’t create a blood legacy, my words would at least live on. It took me a while and many more years of questioning existence and fighting through depression, but I eventually made peace with it.

Quite a few years later, there was another incident where I was lied to about a pregnancy, but the less said about that one, the better. Then farther down the line, in a relationship full of dangers and difficulty, there was a pregnancy. A real one. Unfortunately, the child was lost almost as quickly as we learned about it and the pain from that tore us apart and opened up my world to so many questions about my relationships, my health, my emotions and what I wanted out of life. It blew my mind and I honestly still think about the “what-ifs” to this day. This is when I learned the term “Abiku,” which is a Yoruba term that refers to a child that does not survive until puberty. They are known as spirits who have been sent to teach a lesson. I accepted this as an explanation for what had happened, but I still struggle with what that lesson may have been. I can only speculate that there were several lessons involved.

After that, I was in a position to actually consider my options for the future and after a considerable amount of celibacy and self reflection. I eventually came to the conclusion that I would get a vasectomy, because I was afraid to bring a child into a world I have never been overly fond of and because of my difficulty in relationships. There were several other reasons, but those were two of the largest. However, something has always made me hesitate. I can’t truly answer what it was, but again, I am more than willing to concede to the possibility that it was a number of things. I think the largest hesitation came from the desire to continue the blood legacy of my father. My brothers have both had children for a number of years now and he has never actually mentioned wanting such a thing from me. He loves all of his grandchildren in a way that would bring tears to many an eye, just as he loves my brothers. The same way my second mother loves me and my child. We are a truly blended family and we have never known blood to be thicker than love. Strangely though, I think I primarily hesitated when it came to surgically stopping my seed because I felt I owed him that blood legacy. It may sound ridiculous, but you would be surprised by how many men are haunted by this same situation.

A few years down the line, I begin talking to a consumingly intriguing woman. I had met her a long time ago, but we had only just crossed paths a few times. This time we began a conversation that led to more and more conversations and a few months later, she asks me to a private area away from where we were hanging with friends and she tells me she’s pregnant. (I’m skipping a lot of details because this is the story of my ping pong match with procreation and not writing a romance. Also, I’m not very sure if she’s very keen on having her business put out on my blog.) I immediately hugged her and didn’t want to let go, allowing the tears to flow freely from my eyes. There are so many emotions in me, I can’t even process them all. The main two however, were happiness and fear, both of which were in the rawest and most intense forms I had ever felt them.

Sadly for me, I allowed the fear to take the lead. I panicked in a way I never thought possible. I began acting foolishly and drinking and arguing and constantly freaking out over money. I made several terrible decisions that led to even worse consequences, but as simple as waking up, I realized how ridiculous I was being. I realized this child was a gift and I needed to be myself in order to love and guide her in the ways she needed. I began to see things in a more positive light and work harder to understand that which I don’t. I’ve always tried to be mentally fluid, but I’ve improved on that exponentially. There was a small moment when I pouted because she wasn’t a boy, but the very next day was the first time I felt her kick and that phase was over. I was in love from that moment forward. I was looking forward to my little girl.

A few months, a few power moves and SIXTY-FIVE HOURS of labor later and I finally got to meet the most astonishing creature I have ever laid eyes on. I’ve always maintained that babies all look alike and I never thought I would be the kind of parent that constantly posted pictures of his child, but my Instagram definitely disagrees. I am caught and I am dedicated. She is my everything. The star that lights my sky.

She is my priority and very few things seem important outside of her existence. I’ve had multiple business engagements, events and appearances I’ve let slip past. I’ve stopped being as social. I have writing I haven’t done. I have a massive backlog of video games I haven’t played and I even forgot to release the Little Bot read-along like I was supposed to. It all feels so minor when compared to her. It’s not that I’m purposely neglecting these things, it’s just that her existence demands my attention like nothing else and I’ve honestly just forgotten most of the time. If anyone feels offended by my dramatic shift in attention and priority, I sincerely apologize. I’ll release the read-along this month in addition to the planned novel release and I’ll even throw in a free bonus short story that I’ll post to this site. Hopefully that makes it up to my fans and followers. For my friends, family and business associates, I just hope you can understand. I have changed and I need time to readjust.

To finally wrap up what is possibly the longest blog post I’ve ever done: I just want to say that I’ve never felt this happy before and no matter what happens from this day forward: If my writing crumbles; If I end up hundred of thousands of dollars in debt; If no one else loves me; If I don’t wake up tomorrow; I have won because the Jonesling has arrived. I have my little SuperNova.

2 Replies to “The Wins of the Father”

  1. Beautiful post !!. I wish you nothing but the best in the future …I know your going to be an amazing father and writer.