It’s official. I’m a daddy.
My little man exited the womb last Friday at 3:54 pm. He gave his mom a hard time on the way out, but she had an extremely fast labor, so I’m happy.
One of my close friends, Tracy, recently asked, “Are you ready to be a father?” To that, I had a very snarky reply.
Now that my guy is by my side, I’m definitely ready. More than ever, I’m scared.
I’m not afraid of taking care of him or the lack of sleep. I’m horrified of others.
Kairo, that’s my son’s name, was a very calm baby when he exited the womb. It was weird. This kid cried for all of ninety seconds and he fell silent the moment that he touched his mom. It wasn’t until he met his night watch nurse, Carolina, that Kairo changed.
Carolina was extremely heavy handed. She changed Kairo’s calm demeanor. After two nights with her, he began to cry…a lot. Before, he would hardly shed a tear. Now, this kid panics whenever he enters a new room, amongst other things.
I know. This is normal. But to see Kairo pre-Carolina and post-Carolina is a little heartwrenching. There’s some symbolism there.
Little man can and will be affected by others. No matter how hard I fight to produce a “safe” environment, he is his own character. My job is to partner with my beautifully goofy wife to write his first chapter. After that, we will teach him to guide his own pen.
My fear or apprehensions will never hold me back from letting him experiment with the plot of his life or the structure of his writing.