It’s been over a month now since my daughter was born. We have no name for her yet as her mother struggles to decide. This is symbolic of a difference between us. I would have decided on a name, and stuck with it – never regret the decision. The child and the personality forms around the name until it fits like a glove. Not the other way around. But her mother is more undecided. Lots more undecided. If I suggest one name, she suggest another. If I suggest that other name, she will revert back to the first one I suggested. So, if I say A, she says B. If I say B she will backpaddle to A. And off we go, and we can’t decide.
We have found a system that works as of now. I stay up with the baby until 2 or 3 in the morning, before I give her to her mother for feeding. Then I go to sleep. Usually not in the same room in order to give me a proper nights sleep before work. I am honestly not that tired. The breastfeeding makes her mother tired. I try to make her more comfortable by pressing orange juice or giving her massages.
I don’t often dwell or reflect on the past year or month and I often find my previous reflections to others as almost embaressing. However, there’s a few things I find to be a relief. First, it is so damn good to know that this girl doesn’t have any other father than me. I don’t have to relate to another father, and there’s no one referring to another father. It can be hard on step-fathers to have to deal with someone who will never step down from the throne as number 1. The father will always be the father. But for this girl, I am the father and I will always be the father. It’s a relief.
Humans would often like to fit in or feel at least on the same level as others. I more than before feel like this now. I feel like I am equal to other fathers. I am no less. I even dealt with birth better than many (I was completely calm and collected). The baby comes natural to me. I am a father, like many others and I’m currently doing it quite well. I like being a father as I expected I would. But there’s more to come. The baby is just a bit over a month old. When she starts talking, walking and relating to me – things will slowly become a tight relationship to my young daughter. It’s almost weird to say. My daughter.