Arch is Archie and Archie might be a Sarch

Ben here,

I feel I have to qualify all my posts so that Kate isn't held liable for any of my idiosyncratic blunders. Today's qualification: Ben loves Arch, Kate, and blogging on the weekends. Okay, so probably this weekend more than most. The news is out and at least thirty to forty of the most informed members of the Manker-Brady tribe have been notified. Arch came and Kate couldn't be happier. I am happy too, but in a certain way, I am thinking that as Kate's pregnancy is ending, and mine is just beginning. So, I am still working on making sense of the happiness I am feeling.

I know, announcing my pregnancy is a bit weird. Just follow me for a minute. After managing all the the life adjustments Kate has undergone as Arch gradually took up more and more space in her mid-region, as well as the myriad other emotional, unseen changes she underwent, Arch's arrival has brought her a flood of emotional satisfaction, almost rewarding her for all the sacrifice and acute labor pains she experienced. As for me, most of my discomfort came in the form of having less of a share of the pillows in bed, less kissing (the moment Kate became pregnant, my breath became death stench 85), and a few more minutes of back rubbing and feet rubbing for Kate. Needless to say, I haven't born the elephants share of Arch's development. But he is here now, and I am learning what it is now to not only be a dad, but to be pregnant. Everything has changed. Less sleep might be an easy target of identifying the change, but what I am trying to communicate is much more than a few less hours of sleep at night. I am responsible in a way that is humbling. I am pregnant in a non-abortive, rest of my life relationship with this child. Arch needs a dad and these past few days, I have felt that being his pa means something I hadn't considered before. Maybe it is for this reason that I look at my experience as being identifiably different than Kate's. Arch has already been in need of her. He, only now, seems to present himself to me such that I recognize him needing me too.

I suppose at the bottom of this idea I am attempting to communicate is a reversal of perception I have had. It is not so much that WE get him, but HE gets us. Arch's birth is a moment of recognizing how vulnerable and dependent he is on us. One moment of looking at him and I recognized that he is infinitely more than I could describe. He is him. He is a complete everything, more than simply a son, a boy and a baby. He is a life of infinite potential. Feeling this has altered my perception from what he means to me, to what I mean to him, to the role he depends on me filling in his life, as his father. Not only does he get us, but he will need us for the next while. Physically, emotionally, even socially, he will learn from the type of environment which WE choose to provide for him. His initial world reality will be that which Kate and I have a large stake in presenting. We are an addition to Arch's family as much as he is an addition to our family. Jokingly, I want to exclaim, Good luck pal, I know you didn't ask for us! But I cannot believe that his arrival to us was the 'card' he drew, or solely reducible to biological explanations. He is here and he is with us. No matter how much I can try to describe it, I am overwhelmed with the greater, more eternal experience of birth, mortality and death. These all seem such false divides in the face of Arch. He is HIM, and he is here with us for now. I am happy and grateful to have him.

We are in the hospital still and Kate's lunch just arrived, I am going to go vulture it before she eats all the good stuff.

Love you all and thank you for your support.

Benjamin