A disturbing nightmare in which I was urinating and spitting blood continues to trouble me weeks after I woke up. Trying to understand its meaning leads me to an old physical memory from a surgery I once underwent—and to deeper reflections about the emotional weight and responsibility of being a 52-year-old single father to a six-month-old baby. Somewhere between dream and reality, I try to understand what my body and mind might be telling me—and find the strength to keep going, for Sara.
Tag: personal reflections
What Is Love? | A Single Father’s Answer After 52 Years Without It
For most of my life, love was something I felt disconnected from. When I decided to become a father through surrogacy at the age of forty-eight, I was forced to confront a question I had avoided for decades: was I even capable of love? Six months after my daughter Sara was born, I am beginning to understand the answer.
Sara and Me 