"Would you like me to call her out of lunch or should we make this a show?" my daughter's fourth grade principal asked my husband. And of course, my husband would never hesitate at choosing the show. He had a meeting early this morning and didn't get to see Emma waking up a ""preteen." Now he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and wanted to surprise her at school on her tenth birthday. It was lunchtime and all the fourth grade got to see how much this dad loves this girl. Her friends at her table all giggled and applauded with delight as Emma smiled shyly, whispering to one of them "This is so embarrassing, but I kinda really love it too."
I remember 10 years ago, waking up thinking I was getting ready to go to my baby shower. I had never felt more excited in my life to become a mommy and felt like I had been waiting my whole life for it. Taking almost a year to get pregnant, the joy and anticipation of this little girl coming to take over my world was overwhelmingly wonderful. I had many complications during my last trimester, had been hospitalized, on bedrest and now finally with six weeks to go, my doctor was allowing me to attend my baby shower. Something felt amiss that morning and I couldn't quite figure it out. I knew if I called my obstetrician, she would make me come in to the hospital. Kevin didn't want to take any chances and before I knew it I was hooked up to monitors. Things seemed ok, there was no glaring problem, but they wanted to monitor me for several hours and torturously I watched the minutes wash away along with my baby shower. I was thoroughly depressed. Within moments of my full blown onset of depression a team of doctors and nurses raced into my room, put an oxygen mask over me, started sticking me with needles and IV's and said they would update me on "the situation" momentarily after the storm subsided. To say the least, Kevin and I were terrified! After what seemed like an eternal five minutes, my doctor calmly informed me that everything would be ok, but that they needed to operate immediately and that I would meet my daughter within the half hour. Her heart rate was dropping dramatically and she needed to come out now. I started crying and hugged my husband, scared to death. Kevin spoke to my mom and filled her in on the situation, to which she responded, "We get to meet Emma today!" I remember in that moment, Kevin's anxiety started to evolve into joy that we were about to see the face of this miracle we had been praying and waiting for, and that was exciting. Moments later I was wheeled into the OR and minutes after that, the sweetest sound to ever hit my ears was heard in the resonant voice of my little 4 pound miracle. We wept and laughed and were filled with inexpressible joy. She was tiny but she was vocal, strong and absolutely perfect. I had to recover from the surgery and due to Emma's early debut, she was whisked away to the NICU. Kevin did not want to spend a minute away from her and it was in these first early hours that this little princess that literally fit in his one hand had him wrapped around all ten of her tiny fingers. He would come back briefly to check on me and then return, unwilling to leave her, even at any nurses suggestion to get in a short nap. I'd never felt more in love with my husband than seeing him at these moments hopelessly obsessed with this little girl. As the years have come and gone I couldn't be prouder of who she is growing up to be and I couldn't be fonder of the way her daddy is, even more tightly wound around her finger and, most importantly, her heart. Happy birthday to my sweet and wonderful Emma and happy ten years of fatherhood to her amazing daddy.
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