My husband does not keep a journal of any sort even though it would make for the most interesting reading. Even if he wrote down thoughts I would be riveted to the pages because if he wrote as lively and interestingly as he spoke, he would have a best-seller on his hands.

But he does not have one and it is a loss.

It was Father’s Day two days before our daughter turned fifteen years old. Her birthday is significant for her but for us as well as that is the day we became parents. Since my husband has never written down his feelings about being a father I will do it for him.

Ahem! Presenting my husband's thoughts through my point of view....

I was the first one to realize my wife was pregnant. For days she mentioned how her abdomen hurt like a bad menstrual cramp and how her breasts were so tender that she wanted to stop wearing a bra. She was so sure she had some kind of cancer. I realized she was pregnant despite her doctors mentioning how she could not have any children.

The liquid in the little vial turned blue signifying she was pregnant. It was confirmed to us that evening at her doctor’s office when he shook my hand and congratulated me on my soon-to-be-a-father status.

I did not think about the eighteen or twenty-one years of financial support this would mean. In fact, other than eating toast for dinner for a few weeks because my wife could not stand the smell of foods, the fact that we were pregnant did not phase me... not until I stood by her as she threw up every night for three months at precisely 7pm each night. Not even the sonogram picture of the baby phased me because it looked more like a baby lizard, (I will strongly attest that it was not from my side of the family!).

As the baby grew, I would stand behind her while she washed the dishes and hold and lift her pregnant belly up with my hands. I wanted to help somehow.

When our daughter was born by an emergency C-Section (breach with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck), I was the first one to see our beautiful baby girl as she was wheeled in the baby incubator. The next day I was also the first one to hold her in my arms. She was so tiny weighing only 7 lbs 5.5 oz and being 17in long. She had a teeny tuft of hair on top of her head. Wow! My baby! A girl! Not a lizard!

I was the first one to put her in her infant seat. I carried her into our home and put her in her crib. I was the first one to change her diapers. When she fell asleep in my arms I could not help it when the tears fell down my face. It was the most precious feeling of trust and I could not believe this beautiful baby was my little girl.

On a trip to Australia, when she was only ten months old, I realized I was a dad because only a dad would put his hands under her face seconds before she would throw up so she would not soil her pretty pink outfit.

Fast forward to this past Tuesday when she turned fifteen (because that is how it has seemed) . She still has the adorable eyes and dimples and still enjoys playing with me. I realize I do not get a chance to be home as much as I would like and I miss many things happening in her life, but she still wants me in her life. I enjoy tucking her at night and just talking about Harry Potter, Star Wars, X-Men, Gameboy, or her telling me about her day. I get to help her with her math and drive her to her Tae Kwon Do when I am home.

We share the same office and I may not show it, but I love having her there. I miss her terribly when I go away on trips. In three years she will be going off to college. I will be wishing I could be carrying her home from the hospital as a baby. I love the wonderful young lady she is turning into.

Next year she will begin to drive. In three years I will drive with her to the college of her choice. I will one day give her away in marriage. Maybe I will become a grandfather and babysit. I look forward to every stage in her life with a mixture of sadness and happiness. I know I am not alone.

If there is only one thing she can know about me is that I will always be there for her because I love her terribly. She will always be Daddy’s little girl.


"The first man a little girl falls in love with is her Dad."
~Unknown