Becoming a Dad

No one handed us a map for this road; we will learn together how to be a mother, how to be a father. We don't have to do everything perfectly — we just have to walk this road together.

I don't expect you to be perfect. Being beside me when I'm tired, holding my hand when I'm anxious, being that calm voice that tells our baby “everything is alright” — that is enough for me.

Sometimes a glass of water, a “how are you?”, or a chore you quietly take on is the greatest gift; the things you think are small feel huge to me. Let's hear that first heartbeat together at the first ultrasound, and be with me at half of the appointments — this journey is ours. Take over the heavy lifting, the bending and the carrying, without my having to ask.

There will be days I snap at you; in that moment it's the hormones talking, not me — don't be hurt, just hold me. When the birth day comes, I don't expect you to be a doctor; stay calm, ask the questions for me, and don't let go of my hand.

I will need you most of all after the birth. In those days, share the night shifts, keep the home running, greet the visitors — let me heal while you look after us. When I pour out a worry, don't rush to fix it; sometimes just listening is enough.

And remember: you get tired too, you are human too. Take good care of yourself as well — because when you're okay, we're okay.

You don't have to be perfect. Just never stop learning, trying, and being by my side; the most beautiful part is only just beginning.