Fatherhood, Part II

A few weeks ago, my wife and I welcomed into our family a brand new baby girl. We couldn't be more delighted, especially after experiencing a miscarriage in 2006 (which, for those who have experienced one, you will know that it really sucks, and for those who haven't, take my word for it that it really sucks). We eagerly anticipated the arrival of our new little one, and I for one could not have been more happy. My wife knew it was a girl during one of her previous ultrasounds, but me, being more of a traditionalist, didn't want to know until the doctor announced it officially. People have asked me in the past few months whether I looked more forward to a boy or a girl. It really didn't matter to me - the fact that I was going to be a Dad again was enough satisfaction. My wife was indicating that all she wants was for the baby to have ten fingers and ten toes, but you know, for me, I didn't even care about that. I was truly prepared for as much as I could be prepared for - had the baby come out with a deformity or a developmental condition or some other health issue, it wouldn't be cause for celebration, but I was at peace knowing that however our baby ended up turning out, God would give us the strength to continue to love him/her to the best of our ability. I'm not just saying that - I really honestly mean it.

So when our little girl popped out (well, she was delivered by c-section, but that's another story for another time), and it was announced that she was a girl, I was a bit surprised. Not because I didn't want a girl (far from it), but that I was so sure that it was a boy, based on a speaking error that the first ultrasound technician made - a definite slip of the tongue, that I bet my wife $500.00 that it was a boy - I was so sure of it (and I'm not a guy who bets at all). Well, either the technician and my wife knowingly played out a convincing subterfuge, or I simply learned a lesson to not be so sure of my ability to deduce subtle speaking errors. Either way, I am out five hundred bones.

It has been over two weeks since my daughter was born, and have to say, I am very glad that I have a girl. In retrospect, I think that it didn't have to take two weeks for me to realize this - I remember when she was born, I felt this immense pride and started crying in the operating room, though I limited my display since my wife probably didn't need to see me crying as she was being cut open.

Sure, babies are babies and you don't see the male/female differences coming out en masse, but there is just something special, something magical (I hate using that word, but I'll use it now) about a father holding onto his little girl. Sure, cliches abound, with "Daddy's Girl" and other monikers being tossed around, but you know, it feels different with a girl in tow. For me, it's as if I feel that I need to achieve a new level of protectionism for my child. I guess with boys, my inkling is that as they get older, they generally can learn to defend oneself and boys are generally a bit on the aggressive side anyway. Girls, on the other hand - call me old fashioned, but Trish Stratus aside, my way of thinking just does not include girls fighting off others using their fists, and such. And let's face it, and it's not paranoia - girls are more likely to be attacked by predators throughout their life. It is my job to protect my little girl, and I welcome the opportunity to be able to fulfill this role (this is by no means indicating that I look forward to kicking some as-of-yet-unknown male's ass in the future, but you know what I mean.

I also think about my wife and how she has probably had her fair share of my son and his Transformers fetish, following in the footsteps of his Dad. My son, praise God, will never be confused with a borderline (or even close) effeminate male. Of course, my wife, being a woman, probably has a harder time relating to him than a girl offspring - I mean, today my son was sick with a fever and in the late afternoon, I thought it would be relaxing if he and I took a bath together, but with squirt guns and super soakers in hand, shooting animal targets on the shower tap, and yelling in delight when we knocked the zebra or bear figurine into the water. I'm pretty sure this is not behaviour my wife would likely exhibit, so I am glad that we now have a girl that she will be able to relate to in due time, teach her how to become a woman, just like I am teaching my son how to become a man.

I also think - one day, she may decide to get married and have children of her own. I would be the one who would traditionally walk her down the aisle and hand her over to some guy who will obviously be taking my place as her future protector (or he better be, otherwise, he'll be the hypothetical aforementioned male who gets his ass kicked by yours truly).

In talking with my wife on this one, the second has definitely been easier, in most respects. I guess like anything else, we know what to expect, though obviously a lot can change quickly. We also leverage our son heavily, eliciting his help whenever necessary, to care for his new baby sister. He has, without question, been more than up to the task. Which I was reminded at church a couple of days ago by another parent, is something that we may have taken for granted - battling sibling jealously is something that just adds an extra layer of stress to an expanding family. Thankfully, we haven't had to deal with any of that, so yes, we are fortunate. Sure, our sleep patterns are no longer what they once were, once our son got accustomed to a regular bedtime and slept through the night and we can stay up and watch movies or whatever. On a day like today, where both kids are home and one is sick and the other is a bit fussy - well, I was telling my wife, it's hardly anything that I should complain about. The lack of sleep is not great, but that too, passes, as quickly as a toddler fart. I don't get those parents who want to have children badly, Very soon, our daughter will be sleeping through the night (hopefully sooner rather than later) and then she'll be talking and toilet training and then going to school, just like my little boy.