Reproduction: The Biggest Small Miracle

As I move closer to my wife's due date (Feb. 5), the realization of my upcoming fatherhood is growing more and more apparent. I'm not quite used to the idea yet, and it's still not exactly concrete, but I feel its grasp around my collar. I'm about to be a father.

This has me thinking and reflecting about life and the entire birthing process. I've had to mull over so many pregnancy books and pamphlets (my wife accuses me of not reading enough pregnancy books and too many religious books) that I've almost been drowned in the process of the moment. However, there is no real metaphysical explanations that I've encountered that have peaked my interest.

I can only assume this is the trueness to reality. Not that reality revolves around birth, but that the birth of man is the most realistic touch to this plane of existence. Its true reality actually is amazing: a life actually connected in a symbiotic manner to another life, merged together for the few months that it is grown within. The material beginning of this process is, of course, enjoyable...however, the end results fascinate me so much more.

From two single cells a life is born. Spirit is fused with matter through an inital transmutation, then growth takes over. A merge of cells creates the building blocks of an entire entity - capable of thought, feeling, and spiritual inquiry.

I can only guess the root causes behind such a spiritual mechanism. Our Gnostic texts tell us great stories and myths of how the Divine fell into the physical, but when applying these ideas to an individual, the task is a little bit more broad. It is the spirit that I hope this child succumbs to, not my religious ideas. I very much hope he can take on the kind of thought that can give birth to his own gnosis, within his own mind.

I realize, though, that the life I bring into this world will be molded from my existence. I will hope to imprint a certain set of moral values onto him that he can carry with him his entire life. I have thoughts at this moment of my late father, and the love (and many, many fights) we shared while growing up. He never wavered from his position, and no matter how wrong I thought he was, I know that everything he did and said was to prepare me for my life, my quest, and my path. I can only hope to be half as good a father towards my son.

This birth process can easily be confused for the miracle that IS birth. It's too easy to be caught up in the mechanics of the moment, but I must not forget this experience. I feel it's overpowering joy entering my house.

I feel anxious. I can't wait.