TRANSITION I immediately took off my damp t-shirt and prepared to take hold of her for the first time. This was one of the things I'd be told about; skin to skin contact with the baby as soon as possible. While my wife
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So my wife's final push, which revealed the creamy pale form of a tiny person, just happened. Like sneezes just happen. Like when a bird hits your living room window. But this bird was my daughter, and the window was the pool. But the window gently received the bird. And the bird gasped and was oddly beautiful despite being weirdly gross. This is an awful metaphor. I'd gone from Howard (you know, Howard? That guy we know) to Ava's daddy (you know, Ava? That lovely little girl with the strawberry blond hair. Her dad) in an instant.
manoeuvred herself in the pool to expel the placenta (something else I'd been told about, and something I really wanted to get a look at as a friend told me it resembled a dead facehugger from Alien), I took possession of our little girl, holding her wet, quickly-turning-pink body to my bare chest. I think It was my mother-in-law who took a photo of this moment; a picture that has often been shown off with the unspoken implication of 'look how loving and natural a father Howard is.' But every time I look at it I can still her my own voice in my head screaming “ARGH WHATS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW IM SCARED!” So loving, so natural. But I held her, held her close. She squirmed and wriggled a bit, and did that unfocussed blank stare that newborns do... but she didn’t cry. I could feel her intense warmth burning into me, the gentle pressure of her oh-so-tiny fingers on my skin, and the smell of her head. Aaaaaaaand... CLICK I was someone’s dad. I enjoyed the sensation so much that I’ve since done it three more times.
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