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About Me

I'm a 33-year-old father and husband born and bred in Massachusetts. I have a beautiful son named Will, a gorgeous wife named MJ who is far too hot to have married me, a dog I love and two cats I put up with. I'm a smart-ass former newspaper reporter with a penchant for turning a phrase, who decided to go corporate and is now enjoying life as a content manager for a website.

This blog is not just another "daddy blog." Sure I write about my son, but these pages are a record of my life. I don't just highlight the fun milestones like first steps, I also chronicle the "other stuff." The fights, the torment and the doubt that inevitably come with being a husband and father. It's not always puppy dogs and rainbows, but it is very real. And often there is beauty in the sadness, redemption in the struggle.

Thank you for checking me out, giving me a try and sticking around for the journey. If you'd like to contact me you can email aaron_gouveia (at) yahoo (dot) com.

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Moving on from Miscarriage

Despite the ample and justifiable reasons to remain guarded, this is a new baby we’re talking about and we’re past the halfway point. New life and new hope shouldn’t be clouded under a veil of fear and pessimism. [...]

IVF: Chasing Hope

“Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.” [...]

Where Do Babies Come From? The Butt...Obviously!

Will knows babies grow in a woman’s tummy, but he was confused about how they make their grand appearance into the world. Out of curiosity, we asked him where he thought babies make their exit. His response will forever live in infamy. [...]

It's My Fault We Can't Have Another Baby

I’ve been putting off writing this post. In part because it’s really personal, but mostly because I feel like someone has taken a proverbial sledgehammer to my masculinity, Gallagher-style. [...]

The Cup of Shame

“You need to submit a sample.” Those were the words from my wife that sparked instant panic somewhere deep within me. The first thing I did was get defensive. How dare someone question the potency — the very essence — of my manhood! To even suggest that something could be wrong with my little swimmers, I mean…it was just lunacy. I already have a kid dammit. My sperm are proven leaders. A verifiable commodity. The semen by which all other semen should be measured. I suddenly pictured carrying Will — my strapping evidence of reproduction — into that doctor’s office and holding him up like Simba from the Lion King, shouting “Behold what I have brought forth from my loins!!” [...]