My husband broke his wrist and that has inspired me to write this blog about him….I guess it’s my #MCM!
Convincing my husband to start trying for a baby was not an easy task. He is someone who is always comfortable in his current state and if he’s content with how things are, then why would he change.
Shortly after getting married, we moved out of our apartment into our first house. I was obsessed with HGTV and wanted to take on my own renovations. The same day that we moved in came my million projects. I was coming home from work every night, tearing something apart, painting, decorating, or drawing up plans for a different project. According to my husband, this meant that it was not the opportune time to have a baby.
Flash forward a couple of years, he finally agrees to start trying for a baby. Unfortunately, this proved to not be as easy as we thought it would. I found out that I had endometriosis. I’ll save the frustration and heartache for another blog, but I did eventually get pregnant! We were both in a state of disbelief until I started showing. Then reality set in and my husband went into panic mode. Fishing every day, squeezing in every concert he could, spending time with his friends. In his mind, this new life was about to put on an invisible ankle bracelet and he’d never be allowed any freedom every again. He has never been around babies or children, so he didn’t know how he was going to be able to relate. Hell, even I questioned what type of dad he would be.
During my early pregnancy, I thought I was going to have a boy, and when the tech said “it’s a girl”, I freaked. Every bad thing I’ve ever done in my life flashed before my eyes and I knew this was karma coming full circle. But then I thought of it from a different perspective – this was exactly what my husband needed. He is a very calm (too calm), mild mannered, passive person, not very sporty, not very hands on, cell phone addict and not the stereotypical characteristics that you’d associate with a father raising a son. I knew that by having a girl, life wasn’t necessarily punishing me for a wild past, but it was allowing my husband to transition into fatherhood easier. A little girl would have him wrapped around her tiny fingers and I would be more than happy with that.
When our beautiful girl made her grand entrance, I watched as my husband melted for her. He took to fatherhood like a complete pro. He became the man who lovingly (and somewhat annoyingly) overthought everything she ate, questioned every sneeze, move and color poop she had, he baby proofed things that didn’t require baby proofing. He became overprotective and overly cautious. In return, she became exactly what I knew she would- a daddy’s girl.
Her first word was “dada”. When she cries, she wants daddy. She wants to play with daddy. She wants to take pictures (and smile) with daddy. When he’s at work it’s “where’s daddy?!” When he’s sleeping its “let’s wake up daddy!” She loves it when daddy is the one to tuck her in at night. She always wants to give daddy hugs and kisses. She just loves daddy so much.
I sit back and watch this bond that they have and I am amazed and impressed. The same guy who was terrified of “giving up his youth” and being responsible for another life is the same one who traded his weekend parties for cuddles and gave up hours of fishing for hours of reading books, playtime, coloring and memorizing children’s tv shows. It’s hard to not love watching them laugh, sing, and dance together (he NEVER dances with me!), come up with “daddy-daughter” jokes and so many other activities. Soon she’s going to be right next to him reeling in fish and rocking out at heavy metal concerts! The life he thought he had to leave behind is so much better with an awesome sidekick!
I am so thankful for my daughter. My precious angel turned my nervous, never changing husband into such a great father that I admittedly didn’t know he was capable of becoming.
But I am sure glad he did.