TheWRITEaddiction.com

Origin stories. Now, I’m going to reveal something about myself. I am a HUGE comic book junkie! I love them. I love the ridiculousness of them, they way they force you to hope in something bigger. I still, to this very day, wish that I could have some kind of super power. My favorite story arcs are always the origin stories. For example, if Peter Parker had never been bitten by a radioactive spider, he would never have become Spiderman. If Superman’s home world of Krypton had never been blown to smithereens, he would never have come to earth and become the bright and shining light of DC Comics. If Hal Jordan had never found Abin Sur’s crashed ship and been selected by the green power ring, there would not have been a Green Lantern for Earth. If Bruce Wayne’s parents had not been killed so violently on the streets of Gotham City, there would probably never have been a Batman. I know some of you are rolling your eyes here, but origin stories are really where the party is. They announce the arrival of something big, and bring with them the hope of something coming that will change the world for the better.

The more I thought about this, I realized that I had my own origin story. Perhaps I need a comic book. If I could pen an origin story based on my life, I would probably start it at the moment that I became a father for the first time. My wife and I had been married for a year and a half before we had Kaila. Until that time, we had been living it up for each other, enjoying the childless couple life. I remember when we first found out that we were having a baby, we both looked at each other like we had done something wrong. To be a fly on the wall, you would have thought that we had done something wrong! We spent the next 8 months fantasizing and hypothesizing about what life with a child would be like. The night before, we even stayed up all night long, going to Wal-Mart at 3:00 in the morning to get some more supplies.

We checked into the hospital at 5 a.m. on December 22, convinced that this would just be a routine delivery. The weather was of the normally mild, humid Mississippi December variety. We checked in and were shown to our room. After some routine check ups and tests, my wife was given medicine designed to induce labor. 13 hours later..yes, you heard that right! 13 HOURS later, after laboring for the entire time, the Doctor came into the room with a dire expression on his face. In my mind, this would be the part of the story where the really dramatic music began to play, with highly frenetic strings taking center stage.

The Doctor pulls me out of the room and tells me that the baby has gotten stuck in transition, which meant that instead of a natural delivery, we would need to make a quick decision on a cesarean. I entered my wife’s room quietly, sensing her stress. Trying to be strong for her, I relayed the information verbatim as the Doctor had given it to me. My heart was racing, and as I saw the hurt on her face, I couldn’t help but begin to cry with her. We held each other and prayed as we made that final decision. it would be a cesarean!

The room became a flurry of activity as preparations were made. Papers were give to be signed, and soon she was whisked away, with me being left a package of disposable scrubs to put on. I had never felt more alone in a room than I did when I was sitting there, pacing the floor awaiting the nurse to call me back to the OR.

Then they called me back……(the screen flashes to white, and slowly focuses back in on a couple with a newborn baby in their arms).

When I first held Kaila, something inside of me changed. I knew that I would give my life for her, that I would protect her with my life. With each successive birth, now 4 total, that sensation has grown stronger. Now I know that I am no mere mortal. Rather, I am now a Hero; their hero! For this reason I was born, and for this reason do I fight daily. I’m the greatest hero ever created….

Dad.