I have a daughter. A girl. A tweener. A teen. A woman.

At this point we don't have a name for this little lady.Quin had a question before I took Sarah to the hospital: "How does the baby get out?" I gave him a vague answer about how moms are magical people. He came back with his theory about a "tiny cut on the tummy" and he wanted to see if his mom had one. I evaded that opportunity but then, just like when you thought Columbo was done yet he'd condemn the accused with one, final damning question, Quin asked, "Well then how do you know when the baby is ready to come out?" I was able to play the male camaraderie card and say we men would really never know, but moms do. It wasn't enough, and I'm happy about that. What I'd essentially relayed unto my son was that men are clueless and he'd just have to get used to it (he'll have to learn the hard way some day.) 

Who the? What the? Do you have food? First glance at mom.

A day later, as Sarah gently rocked and cooed our new baby girl, Quin went after her with the interrogation. Sarah caved and told him: "The baby came out of my privates." I cringed. And to my surprise, Quin left it alone. It was all too much. And that should be a lesson to all women out there. If you want to paralyze a man, like maybe your boss who's dogging you about being late, then just drop the lady parts on him. Once you say something to the effect of "female problems" or any reference to monthly timing, the male will cave to his debilitating disbelief in simple yet necessary biology.

And you thought you were having a bad day.I thought about this as I looked at my new baby girl. She's absolutely the most adorable creature this side of puppy Paco, yet I'm still unable to wrap my head around the fact that I have a daughter. A girl. A tweener. A teen. A woman. The timeline shot across the chasm and left a lightning bolt impression on my brain. A few cells clumped into a few more and a few more and the next thing you know they're not talking to me because I said the wrong thing about the cute boy in glee club. 

Very resourceful, and doubting any of us know what we're doing, she helps the nurse with the stethoscope.

Honestly, it's not any of those issues, or Disney's bullshit princess intrigue, or the undying mystery of femininity in general that had me unable to grasp what I was holding. First of all, babies are fricken magical. They pull all the serious out of the world, trivializing everything, and in a tiny six-pound spot you're riveted by what really matters. And you hope to god you're not the one to fuck up pure beams of crystalline with doubt's dirty exhaust and smudges of cynicism

OK ENOUGH. You get it. Babies are awesome.

The boys win awards for overall awesomeness.

So Sarah and I shocked the delivery room with our disbelief that we'd just had a baby girl. I don't know what it was, but I guess we never thought we'd have a girl...or not so much in that we were trying for any specific sex, but it only crossed our minds in a hypothetical way. And that little va-jay-jay had me shout "It's a girl?!" in a question mark exclamation point sort of way. I was incredulous and Sarah was too. "It's a girl?"

"Oh crap, it's a girl," I confirmed Sarah's query as the nurse lifted the baby into her mother's arms. "It's a girl," I repeated again before hanging on to the bed railing for the support necessary for a guy who has issues with blood.

The new big brother forming an alliance.That all seems like a month ago but our little girl is just two days old. The expansion of time has given me an inclination as to what the shock was about. It's not just that I'd tangle with one of her first baby poos and have to call for help against her lady crevices, but her arrival is a broad swipe at being a grown up. We've had fun with our boys, but I could always tell Sarah wasn't done with the baby thing. Now, it's for real. We've lived in this weird purgatory between doing and undoing, where we don't often make decisions, rather just keep moving in and out of days until they're weeks and years. Now, we've completed the major reason most creatures even exist. We're done breedin'. We can shut that door behind us and try not to freak out over how good things can be. We've got our unit; our penises, our vaginas, our DHA and even a car that was made in the last five years. 

Hoping for all family scenes to be this gentle and engaging.

So take heart little girl, we weren't really shocked about who you are. We were blown away at who we've become. And we're very excited to have you with us. Maybe one day you can explain to your brothers how it all happens.

And with Paco's approval, she can stay.

Comments

[Jo]

Yes! It's a big deal, a huge deal. The thought of you with a daughter is delightful!
Your family is completely special.

[Jolie]

Such a beautiful post. I loved it.

As a girl myself, let me tell you: you're in for a real treat.

Xo