Those two phases slowly repeated in my head as I stared down at Ryan. He was bundled up tightly and sleeping now. He had just finished getting poked, prodded, and pricked by 3 or 4 nurses and spent a most of his first 2 hours on earth crying. But now, he was so peaceful.
At first, the words came pounding with a tone of complete and utter shock and bewilderment, "I'm a dad. Oh my god! (aka Holy @#!, I'm responsible for this guy?!?)". Then came a churning wave of bubbling anxiety, "I'm a dad. Oh my god! (aka some more holy @#!, what kind of dad will I be?!?)". Finally, came a foaming sort of calm elation as I realized, "I'm a dad. Oh my god! (aka Holy @#! We are going to have so much fun!)". The whole evolution took about 30 minutes.
Leslie was sleeping, recovering from surgery. Ryan briefly opened his eyes to look up at me. I introduced myself, "Hi Ryan. I'm your dad." He was completely and utterly vulnerable... a blank slate. I had never felt such an innocent dependency before. As he drifted back into slumber, my mind began to race again. So much to teach! So much to learn! So many times ahead! "I'm a dad. Oh my god!"
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