I stared at my wife.
“Are we sure we want to do this? Are we ready for this?”
She looked at me, “I think so.”
“Should we wait a bit? Like a year? Or five?
She laughed, “Five? No…we should do this now.”
I thought to myself, “A baby…me, a Dad? I can’t even take care of myself.”
But, she was right. She thought we ready. We didn’t know if we could but we wanted to take a chance. I did my research and bought enough books to fill a library. After, two months of hard….fun work….my wife was pregnant. Then came the cravings, which led to late night trips to find fish sandwiches. Or early mornings where she wanted ice cream and pickles for breakfast.
A few months later, we were at the doctor’s office looking at my baby through a computer screen.
“It’s a girl…..congratulations.”
I started to panic internally. I flashed forward to her first steps, first prom, her first broken heart. I got angry, “I don’t know you, but whoever you are…you broke my daughter’s heart..I hate you.” I realized I was jumping way ahead of myself. My kid wasn’t even born yet and I was already mad at future boyfriends.
I looked at the screen and said, “I’m so proud of you baby…whoever you are….I love you and I can’t wait to meet you.”
5 and a half years later, our house is an explosion of Disney and pink. And if I hear “Let It Go” one more time, I will go crazy. From the random dancing in the middle of a mall store, hugs from my little one, tantrums, tea parties, and giggle fests….I couldn’t be happier. But, I still hate you future boyfriend.