Henrik

I sit here having just read a moving piece by a local sports writer about having lost their most recent child to a stillbirth. Not usually a crying type, I found myself tearing up as I imagined the pain and sorrow that his family must have felt during those times. Your mom and I have felt similar pain prior to your birth, with the early loss of three prior pregnancies. Those dark days seem so long ago since you came into our life 5 short months ago.

I have remarked over the years that the Xanga era was the golden age of this crazy internet world in which our lives operate these days. So many ridiculous posts were made with very little significance because at that point, what was life anyway?

This space will hopefully be utilized to keep track of the the meaningful things in my life these days. Namely, a wonderful wife, Natalie, who is absurdly tolerant of my busyness, lust for sport consumption, and seemingly chronic fatigue. Anyhow, onto the more important things.

I have a child now. And 5 months have passed since his birth and I haven't taken the time to document how wonderful he is and what he means to me.

To Henrik:

Right now, Henrik, you are a hilarious 5 month old boy. You actually make it harder for me to go to work than it already was (even though I do currently love my job as a sports medicine fellow at OU). The best part of my day consistently is coming in to see how inappropriately happy you are at 6 a.m. in the morning. Clearly not a trait that you picked up from me, but rather your loving mother. In time, I hope that this early morning enthusiasm will translate into a desire to go fishing with me during many sunrises. This is something that I pray for.

I love watching you interact with your aunt Alli, who loves you so much that she has altered her sleep regimen so that she can spend more time with you in the mornings before she goes to work.

Our days revolve around you, and I certainly mean that as a positive thing. You continually make us all laugh, particularly with your loud, boisterous personality and the funny facial expressions that everyone claims look just like mine. I am proud to call you my son. I am anxious to see you grow up, but I don't want it to happen too fast. Just this morning, I swear that you looked different than you did the night before when you went to bed.

I will try to update this frequently for you.

Love,

Dad