Almost three and a half years ago, I watched my husband cry in the delivery room when Johanna was born. I was surprised, and a little disconcerted–I’d never seen my husband cry before, and it seemed so strange to see my brash husband turn into a blubbering, sobbing mess. I watched him as he followed her to the warming table with a video camera, filming as one of the delivery room nurses and a doctor from the NICU examined her and cleaned her up. As soon as he could, he was up in the nursery, snapping pictures.
And then I watched him an hour later, sobbing as he absorbed the news that Johanna had Down Syndrome. When he raised his head to look at me, his eyes were dead. I’ll never forget what he said: “How can we, the two least patient people in the world, parent this baby?”
It was my husband’s worst fear that he’d had a child with a mental or physical disability. But more than three years after Johanna’s birth, he’s the first one to say that our daughter is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Jo Jo has her daddy wrapped around her little finger. I’ll never forget watching them in the NICU when she was recovering from surgery. He’d race over from work to be with her, and spent hours cuddling her while she slept.
He turns into a complete mushball whenever she’s in his arms….
It amazes me to see how fatherhood has transformed my husband. The type-A, adrenaline seeking junkie who jumped out of airplanes and dived with killer white sharks gets the biggest high hanging out in the kiddie pool with his three small children.
Happy father’s day, to the best dad ever. I love you!