365

There was a moment, one year ago, when I was scared. Flat out, spine-chilling, knee-trembling scared. I saw this tiny tuft of hair start to emerge and I buckled. It was nothing more than the top of her head but it was enough. I had been fine for the past ten hours or so as Heather went into back labor and when her water finally broke. That was nothing.

The cold reality of forty weeks of waiting – of childbirth classes and ultrasounds… of tiny feet kicking Heather’s belly and the first sign of contractions – came crashing into my brain as I watched that little girl make her way into the world. I was going to be a daddy. Me. What did I think I was doing?

Sure, I liked kids. I had been around babies plenty of times and was pretty good with them. But they weren’t MINE. I could give them back. What did I know about feeding and night wakings and colic? How am I supposed to raise a kid? What do I know about any of that?

All those thoughts and many, many more were bouncing around my brain but only for a split second. That fear I had disappeared faster than it had begun. Because I saw two things that put my mind at ease and made me realize that everything was going to be alright.

Before I really had a chance to know what was going on, there was a pair of little eyes searching around this bright, cold world for something to help make sense. And for a split second – but long enough to make a difference – those little eyes locked on me.

That may have been the single best moment of my life. And attached to those little eyes was this tiny little baby, gasping and kicking. I watched as her purple skin began to turn pink with every new breath she took… As her little lungs yelled for all they were worth… And I was amazed at how light she was as I held her for the first time.

Looking at her in my arms, I knew I could never, ever let go. I knew that I was there to protect her and that I would do whatever it took to keep her safe. With my daughter in my arms, I turned the fear around. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I watched as Heather held Finley for the first time.

All those worried thoughts about raising our daughter flew away when I saw the two of them together. Because I knew I wasn’t alone. We were a team… A family… and everything was going to be just fine.

I didn’t know it at the time, but over the next several months I would become the dad I am from watching how much of an amazing mom Heather is. I’m just the apprentice in this reality show. We are blessed and lucky to have a healthy and happy, easygoing kid. But I believe the reason Finley is so good tempered is because of how good she’s got it in the Mom department. And if you told me a year ago, I would be waking up two, three times a night to settle a baby and go right back to bed, I would have laughed. These days, it’s just part of the drill.

And now it’s a year later. I can’t say some of those parenting fears haven’t snuck their way back into my brain, because they have. But every time I start to worry, something will happen to ease my mind. Mostly, it involves a Finley smile or one of her squealing laughs. Sometimes it’s the amazing things she discovers, like how to hold a cup or when she rolled over for the first time or the way she walks around the house like she owns it (because she does).

But sometimes it’s as simple as watching her sleep, dreaming of whatever infants dream… Listening to her breathe her little sleepy sighs... Watching her curl up around her bedtime bunny. How can something so precious be so tiny?

I am thankful for every day I get to hold my two girls. They are there every day I wake up and are there every night I go to sleep. I can only hope the next 365 are half as good as the first.

Maybe it’s because I’ve got Irish blood in me and maybe it’s because we’re only a week away from St. Patrick’s Day… But one thing is for certain. Every March I realize I am a very lucky man.