Finally, the baby came out and made his first cry. And they brought me over to him, and he was covered in blood and amniotic fluid and had vernix in the creases of his skin, but he looked fucking GREAT. His weight was good. His brain was good. His everything was good. All the selfish, terrible thoughts were sandblasted away. No regrets. Then I looked back to my wife, and she was still alive, beautiful as ever. And I burst into tears. I was wearing a surgical mask during the delivery but it got so gummed up with tears and snot that I was basically wearing a used Kleenex. And I called my mom and my wife's mom and I said, "THEY'RE ALIVE!" because that was all that mattered. He was alive. She was alive. You can deal with anything in this life, so long as you're not dead.

Fantastic recounting of the birth of his son, who came seven weeks early. It's terrifying to think about Lauren having to give birth in just a few weeks, but that's exactly what this was like. So glad he was okay.