It’s new … does it mean it’s welcome?
My wife went into labour at what I thought was the most inopportune time. Barely a year before my son had been born. He was a difficult child, demanding, and a law unto himself.
I felt as though I had finally gotten a handle and how best to deal with him when I was faced with the prospect of having to go through it all again.
As we drove to the hospital my resentment grew. I felt trapped into an everlasting struggle with babies.
But when baby is due and making all the signs of coming out into the world there is not much you can do but be there and see what happens.
In the labour ward, there was a huge photo on the wall of a flowing stream, I think it was meant to provide mothers with a sense of the baby flowing down her tubes and out into her arms.
I took many a deep breath anticipating what was ahead of me.
Baby was born but there was a complication and my wife had a bleed. The nurse had already sat me down, out of the way, and gave baby to me to hold while she and the doctor did their thing.
I sat there and looked down at my new daughter. As I did so she opened her eyes and looked at me and I instantly fell in love with her.
Every thought of resentment went out the window. Here was this tiny bundle of life looking up at me, her dad, and I couldn’t have been more pleased.
She was new, and she was welcomed.
I tear up every time I recall that moment and she and I some forty years later have the best relationship.