Preparing for a baby forces an inventory of necessities, equipment, and paraphernalia, evaluating financial means and determining career logistics. But it also nudges you to take stock of immaterial aspects of life for an important perspective on what it means to “have” or to be “ready”.

At the end of January, Toph and I threw a co-ed baby shower at our house to celebrate the approaching arrival of our first child with close friends in Philadelphia.  Our little row home filled up with 30 people bearing gifts for our new addition.  More than half our guests had to get baby sitters to be able to swing the night out, which is no small expense these days (I can’t believe people used to hire me at age 13 to watch multiple kids under age 2 for $2 an hour), plus it snowed unexpectedly. They all made it.

Topher and I have known the majority of these friends now almost longer than we didn’t know them.  Most were classmates at Villanova with whom we’ve remained tightly connected, despite the odds against relationships that get joggled loose by time, distance and whatever life doles out.  The group has grown as marriages invited new members who quickly became an integral part of the scene.  It’s been surreal to watch kids of these friends meet each other, without a hunch about the history their parents already share.

Since July 2, 2009, so many of our friends–the ones who were there that night for the shower, and countless others who weren’t–have helped us stockpile and prepare with gear, guidance, encouragement and reassurance.  But over the years, they’ve equipped us with far more.  They’ve been part of our biography and have helped adjust and set a shared moral compass on which we’ll calibrate our child’s until he or she can operate on his or her own.  They’ve helped define us. They’ve been cheerleaders when the rest of the world seemed comprised of naysayers. They swore we could do something big when we were certain we couldn’t.  They reminded us that work is only a small part of a bigger, richer life when we got caught up into thinking it’s the only thing that defines us. They made us laugh when we’ve only felt like crying.

When you’re looking out on a houseful of good friends, all gathered at once, you’re reminded of what you don’t think of on any given day when life is just moving along as usual: these people have given us faith in the good of the world, which is encouraging enough to want to add to its population.

And then you hope that your children find themselves surrounded by as good a group of friends someday.

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