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Moments are like our digital cameras in our minds, we relive some of the greatest memories like a film that moves us so deeply, we tend to have a difficult time detaching from the beauty in our own madness. Some of these moments, for many of us, include great pain and frustration, for most of us we habitually share what we think will make us or others feel good emotionally. Lucky for you I’m not sharing sadness, I share life, the moments your parents probably talk to you about when the opportunity presents itself. The day you were born, I chose to speak about this because my daughter gave her first breath in the middle of what I call the perfect storm.

On November 2^nd, 2022, Astrid and I rushed to the hospital at 3 am because she was experiencing contractions. We were entirely shocked because Naomi was not due for another 8 days, we waited. All comfort was completely removed, all bets were off, we were entering a moment that was bound to change our lives forever. Still. We waited. Astrid was not dilating, and we were becoming anxious with concern because the doctors kept addressing us, after every five sentences the word “C-Section” was being tossed around like a present on Christmas Day. For 15 years Astrid and I have planned everything, having this moment out of our control was entirely nerve wrecking. Against the odds, we rolled the dice, we fought back with “Vaginal delivery”. I know the insurance dishes out more for C-Section, but we discussed a plan, and we were going to see it through.

It was about 20 hours and I had not been able to sleep all day, I was exhausted, I can’t even imagine what Astrid was going through, at 12:15 am I closed my eyes for about 30 mins, suddenly the doctor walks in and I don’t know how I was able to wake up, my intuition told me this is it, but my stomach had shifted to another area of my body, my feet were cold and my fingers were numb, as the doctor reached to check dilatation I had not even realized my nails were in my mouth to the point I was biting down until blood extracted. I was in a cold sweat, as Astrid and I made eye contact the doctor yelled out “Oh my God! You are 10 cm dilated!” I jumped out of the couch and quickly asked “Is it time?” She looked at me and with a hidden smile under her mask she replied, “Its time dad!” I came to Astrid’s bedside and reminded her “you are going to do great; I am here with you no matter what” she smiled. The fear in her eyes told a different story.

I was overwhelmed with the joy of being a parent I found myself being selfish to the idea that she must have so much going through her mind, I asked “are you ok?” she just replied “I’m so scared” I kissed her on her head and as I did the bed started shifting in delivery position, Dr. Thorton told me to hold on to her legs and I did, really tight. She began to push at 2:15 and it was the longest 17 minutes I’ve ever had the honor to have the front seat too. Naomi was born at 2:31 AM, she gave a loud cry as her mother pushed out with a great yawp. Astrid was exhausted, and before my eyes my daughter was laying on her mother’s chest. Crying. Our little family was completely emotional, Astrid cried of joy, she carried this beautiful baby girl for 9 months, it was the best introduction for the 3 of us. I cried briefly, I was more concerned because Astrid was completely winded, she put all her effort to push.

I cried because her efforts were evident, I cried because she survived and that is a privilege. I cried because she has shown her defiance for 15 years being with someone who was difficult to love, the gift of our child is the significance of how much she loves me. Obviously, there is more details about that magical day, but I am sure there are so many different feelings based on childbirth. I want men to understand that being in that room is such a treat, it may not seem that way because of all the pain your partner experiences, but essentially this is a part of life you want to witness. It’s a moment of great pride and vulnerability.

It is truly difficult to bring words to life when speaking on behalf of yourself. I’ll start with my name, Santiago or Santi. My passion for writing always has been a love and hate relationship, but it always conveys emotion. Its a love/hate relationship because there are times where the words just flow right through me like right at this moment. I stare at my iced coffee with little to no ice for lack of engagement in my words. We get lost in the text, just like we get lost in our thoughts. I am not an aspiring wunderkind, I just have a story to tell like we all do. My story like many always comes from the depths of experience, for without experience the story is dull. Like a delicious steak without a wine pairing, like peanut butter, no jelly. I welcome you to my world, I hope to bring together the recipe of my life and spill it out in words for you all to understand the depths of me. I write because it is the ultimate expression of character. I can use my words vocally but what do these words all really mean?

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We speak through emotion at times, we raise our voices and say words we don’t necessarily mean, this is the problem with being vocal. Emotions mixed with the spoken word at times have consequences, the same is invoked with the written word, but you have to really ponder what your verse will be. You have the luxury of time with the written word. Written words are a contract, you have to stand behind what you say, sure you can adjust your thoughts, but again, it is only possible to do so with experience. Which brings me to how I write, I believe the essence of good work comes from being vulnerable on the blank page, describing the emotions you feel and deliberately facing yourself with the page to transcribe these emotions. It is open for your interpretation as a reader.  My daughter invokes emotions, when I think of her the faces she makes when she brings me inspiration to write how I can picture her life playing out. That is where you will see the spurts of emotion flow through my words. We all have parts in our lives that light us up from inside, we write about these moments the most because they are brightness in our lives. Brutal honesty, this is what is required to get lost in the words.

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I am a writer, I knew that when I was in high school, I felt it in my bones when I would hear Tupac, Notorious BIG, and the Wu-Tang Clan. I may not have grown up with the same oppression they had to endure in my life, but love is love, hate is hate. Both are equally relevant to distinguish, the stories behind these artist lives are the heartbeat of many New Yorkers in the 90’s. If these songs do not move you, it is because the stories do not hold any significance in your life. I come from poverty, I am a proud Latino. I paint the image of my life just as these artist do in their artworks.