When I got married a little over 3½ years ago, I remember there was a time in the beginning of our marriage where I just could not believe it. Not in a bad way, by any means, but just that it was all just so surreal. It took a while for it to sink in that the woman I had been courting long-distance for 2+ years was now next to me when I get up every morning. Sure, I knew that I was married, and I knew that the woman that I had wanted to marry for so long was now my wife, but there was still this aspect to it like I was watching a movie of it happening to me and not experiencing it myself.
It is hard to describe this feeling in more words than I already have; I trust that many of you know what I am talking about. There was just this moment where, all of sudden, it really hit me that this is me, and this my wife, and we are married. And again, these are all good experiences. It’s just funny that I had them.
So now it turns out that I am experiencing all of these feeling over again with my daughter. The difference here is that whereas I cannot recall the exact moment here it hit me that I was married, I know the precise second where having a daughter went from surreal to real.
I recently went to a wedding in NJ of two of my oldest friends. Of course, the baby being two weeks old, Talia and Reia stayed home while I made the journey. The wedding was awesome, and it was in my old town, so I got to see friends and spend time with my family. I really did enjoy myself. I missed my daughter, of course, and we all g-chatted after the wedding so I could see her, but at this point, I had not reached the “real” plane of existence of having a daughter.
So I fly home and my wife picks me up from a transit stop 5 minutes from our apartment. She had left the baby at home with a good friend of ours because she was only going to be gone for 10 minutes. Anyway, Talia parks the car and tells me that she has to go switch the laundry load, so why don’t I go upstairs and see our daughter, etc. When I get in the apartment, my friend is holding her and I immediately go over to her and pick her up, and I am just overcome. I am holding this warm ball of flesh that I have only been away from for literally 25 hours, and it’s all I can do from bursting into tears. Then my neighbors leave, and the flood gates open. I just started crying and crying and crying. And THAT was the exact moment where it hit me that I really have a daughter.
I can’t even begin to explain what I was feeling, I just know that I was overcome with so much love for this thing that didn’t even exist 2 and a half weeks ago, and I didn’t even realize how much I truly missed her until she was back in my arms. The same thing happened when my wife went to Israel by herself a while ago – I missed her while she was gone, sure, but I got by, and I didn’t cry until I saw her walking down the hallway at the arrival gate.
I realize that sharing times when you’ve cried doesn’t exactly win you the man-of-the-year award, and I’m sorry if this entry wasn’t funny either. But then again, I don’t really care. My brothers probably don’t read this anyway, and besides, many of the ladies reading this blog would kill for a husband who is as in touch with his emotions, so in the words of the great Calvin & Hobbes - thbpthtbhthtbpth! [That’s the tongue-sticking-out spitting noise, by the way.]
All I DO know is that I started writing the first sentence at the top of this page and have not stopped. I guess I got something to say, and that is this: It finally sunk in. I have a daughter now.
As Neo said when he had a similar epiphany: Woah.
