Just over three weeks ago, I became a Dad— a ‘Girl Dad’ at that. Leona Elizabeth is here! I knew I wanted to write about my early experiences and lessons, but I’ve found it difficult. I considered putting together the array of thoughts and emotions last Sunday, but there was just too much to cover. I thought to myself… there is so much about the last several days that I can’t put into words. Where do I begin? I learned a lot from the time in the hospital, and that was the beginning. Makes sense to start there. OK, open up the laptop. I’m ready to get started writing, and… she’s crying again, laughing at Dad on the inside. Blog postponed.
This has been a recurring lesson in and of itself: as a new parent, you are smacked in the face with the reality that you are no longer on your own little timeline. It’s theirs. It’s theirs now, and probably forever. And that’s okay.
A friend told me about a week before we met Leona that she believes “you get the child that will make you grow the most.” I’ve adopted this belief. I also think it’s a great way to approach parenting, especially if you are a new one. With that being said, the hospital stay certainly required that “growth” mindset of Maria and I, as we watched our brand-new baby being worked on and ultimately prepped for a visit to the NICU.
Throughout the entire pregnancy, we were fortunate that the baby was growing steadily, and that her and Mom were healthy by all indicators throughout the process. This, however, made the fact that she had early breathing troubles and needed intensive care that much more challenging to deal with. Unexpected. Forced growth.
We stuck together, kept positive, and leaned on prayer during this time. Both of us had gone through many of life’s challenges prior to this, of course, but they paled in comparison. Before, the challenges had implications for “you and your future.” Those matter, no doubt. Now, however, it’s a six pound, thirteen ounce representation of all of the love and joy you wish to bring to this world. It’s a dream and a prayer that has turned into a life, hanging in the balance. The four days spent in the NICU, now that I look back on them, swiftly taught/reminded me that there are few things in life that truly matter.
Work will always be there. Your goals, visions for the future, the next promotion opportunity, all of it…will always be there. This is not meant to suggest that you use a life-altering event as an excuse to say, “well, I now have perspective. No need to push myself on these goals anymore. Family matters most.” Yes, it does— but how you show up for that family, or close friends, or loved ones, matters a great deal, too.
The hospital stay showed me at once: having a baby means that if she is hurting or needs help, your world stops and nothing else matters. At the same time, you will now do anything to excel in all areas of your life to give her everything that you possibly can. Even on 3-4 hours of sleep. Even if your previously-perfect “routine” is entirely out of whack. You’ll do what it takes and remind yourself in difficult times: “the child that makes me grow, the child that makes me grow.”
I love you already, Leona. There will be no wishing the time away here, but I do look forward to when your personality starts to shine through.
