18th June 2016

A letter to my husband, on the eve of Father’s Day…

Screen Shot 2016-06-18 at 16.28.40Right from the beginning, it was all about me.

I could feel the waves of nausea in the early days, the kicks under my ribs, the bouncing on my bladder in the middle of the night.

For you, it was just about watching my tummy grow, staring at grainy scan pictures stuck to the fridge, and occasionally raising your eyebrows in shock when I announced how many weeks there were to go.

And then it was time to go to hospital, driving me in the middle of the night to be induced, feeling helpless when the contractions took hold, holding my hands while an epidural was inserted, and then running around the ward trying to find a midwife when nausea ripped through my body near the end.

You felt just as scared, just as daunted, just as helpless as I did.

But when they came, every eye in the room was on me, rather than the man stood by my side.

And when he was born, he was given to me first. After all, I had carried him for 9 long months and I had just birthed him for 12 long hours.  But as I glanced into your eyes as I held him for the first time, I could see the reality of the moment was finally dawning on you. Tears pricked your eyes as you stared at the human we had made.

And finally, I passed him to you – and as you pulled this tiny, wriggling human to your chest, a smile spread across your face.

That was the moment that you became a Daddy.

That was the moment that it became about you too – 4 years ago in that hospital room, with the sun streaming through the window, our music playlist filling the room, and feelings of disbelief, relief, and pure happiness coursing through our veins.

That was the moment that you became a Daddy.

So much has happened since that day 4 years ago. Another baby joined us – just as beautiful, but without the disbelief. We were already parents and we moved through the baby stage with a newfound confidence, knowing how to change nappies, how to sterilise, and what to do when his little body was wracked with sobs.

And now we are waiting for a third baby; a little girl – and I have no fear. I know you will stand next to that hospital bed, no matter how the birth pans out. I know you will be my rock. And I know that when we get home, we will make it work. We always do. We always make it work, together.

And since the day in that hospital room, life has changed. On the surface, it may seem like it’s still all about me – as I am the one at home with the kids, I am the one picking them up from school, I am the one cooking their tea and often putting them down to bed on my own. But that just isn’t true.

You are such an important part of our world. You are our provider – but it’s so much more than that.

So much more.

You are the one that makes us smile, the one that protects us, the one that arrives home to a house full of smiles every evening, the one that our world revolves around every weekend. The boys echo you in so many ways – their mannerisms, their funny little sayings, even the way they sleep on their side and snore every night. As much as they are like me, they are like you too.

You have made me proud in so many ways; not always the perfect husband (as I am not the perfect wife) – but without exception, always the perfect Daddy.

In a world where not every child has the privilege, I know we are lucky to have you.

So lucky.

And on Father’s Day, I want you to know that.

Because at the beginning, it was all about me.

But that changed the very moment you became a Daddy.