A tangled mess. There's no other way to describe the havoc of my emotions.

The Doctor actually says it twice before the fact finally sinks in. "Congratulations! You're going to be parents!"

The world rushes in on me. The room is suddenly too small. The air is entirely too warm.

"Commander? Did you hear me? You're going to be a father."

I force a hasty nod. The EMH continues to talk but I don't hear him speak. His mouth opens and closes in a ridiculous pantomime.

This isn't happening, I think to myself.

I'm scared.

I've always wanted to be a parent. Becoming a father, though, was always something that happened in the future. It was an idea, an event to relish at a distance. Now that that distance is gone, I'm flooded with apprehension. What if I'm not a good father? Will my children learn the lessons I try to teach them? Will they resist me like I did my own father? No other responsibility can compare to this. Parenting isn't like Starfleet, with regulations set out clear in front of you. And it certainly isn't like the Maquis, where you can break the rules as easily as you make them.

Part of me wants to stop this process. You can't make mistakes if you don't take chances…

But it's too late for that, and I know it. I can't hinder this little one from making his or her way into the universe any more now than I will in the future. The first step. The first word. I can only imagine the life he or she will have.

All the more reason to be terrified.

What if the ship is attacked? What if we're boarded? Is this really the place to raise a child? Can we make it a safe place to grow up? Babysitters. Long hours. A closed community. Limited resources and facilities. I want to give the best that I can… but how much can I give and still do my job?

The emotions churn inside me until I can no longer identify them one by one. My heart beats erratically and I can feel the blood rushing to my face.

I feel a hand at my cheek. I turned to its owner.

An image appears in my mind of an infant clinging to my wife. Incredibly small fingers curl around my outstretched thumb. She smiles up at me without pretense. New life is a cause for celebration. The birth of my own child is only that much sweeter.

That's when I realize, in spite of my worry, that I'm happy.

B'Elanna is staring at me with tender eyes. She wipes away my tears.

"Say something," she whispers.

I let out the breath I've been holding. Her command is perhaps the toughest of all. What do I say?

"I love you."