She had just come over. We were sitting in the dining room, talking when she told me, straight forward, “I’m pregnant”.
The first five months of my girlfriend’s pregnancy I flaked on all her doctor’s appointments. I was afraid of accepting the role of a parent, until I turned my fears into fuel.
When I was nine, my father started coming home late at night. He would walk through the door like nothing was wrong. But I knew something was.
For many family members with dads in prison, instead of filling out greeting cards on Father’s Day, they’re signing paperwork. They strategize how to make long and often expensive trips, not to hiking spots or sentimental locations, but to remote facilities hundreds of miles from their homes. And instead of spending the day showering their family members with gratitude, they have 45 minutes to an hour behind a plexiglass window.