from dad's point of view.

this is the journal entry Mason wrote about the day Milo was born.

A couple days ago I became a dad. I feel like I should write things down now. Feelings and such. Stuff that will let my kids and kids' kids know me a bit better. 

Two nights ago, my wonderful wife Lindsey (who is currently sleeping next to me) gave birth to our first child. We named him Milo and he is perfect. 

I was worried about the birth. We didn't find out beforehand whether we were having a boy or girl, and for some reason I had a horrible fear that the baby would come out with some sort of complication. 

Lindsey was a champ. She didn't use any medications during her labor. She hardly complained. I think once she said, “It hurts so bad!” Other than that, though, she was just so focused. She didn't even cry. Seriously. I think she was in too much shock. 

I cried. I hardly ever cry. Not in movies. Sometimes when I listen to music. But hardly ever else. But when Milo was born I burst into tears. That's a cliche, I know. But really, as soon as his little body came out, tears immediately started flowing down my cheeks. 

In all honesty, the tears were for fear. Not fear of fatherhood or anything. Birth is kind of gruesome, and after Linds pushed Milo's head out there was a lot of blood that followed. All I saw was a tiny human head and blood. I honestly thought his head had fallen off during the intensity of Linds' push. I was scared my baby was decapitated. 

Fortunately that was not the case. I soon saw the rest of the baby parts that usually accompany a head. When I saw it was a boy I moved towards Linds to tell her. I don't know if she heard me or if it just went over her head because she didn't appear to register my statement. She was definitely in shock about what had just happened.

A few moments later I was holding my son and he was staring up at me with these big black (probably dark gray) eyes. It was surreal. At one moment I had a strong recognition that I had joined the circle of life that has been in effect since the beginning of mankind. I realized that some day Milo would be sitting in my place, holding his child. And I realized that day won't be so far off, in the grand scheme of things. 

That's part of why I want to start writing these things down. The time is going to pass quickly. I want to make sure I appreciate it as it comes and goes. Like Ferris Buehler says, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”