a loving letter from the dad (mister john)

- November 30, 2011

Dear Stella,

We’re glad you’re here! It seems like not very long ago we were just getting used to the fact that you were coming. I want to tell you a little bit about some of my experiences the last 9 months. It’s tough to be able to identify a place to begin with this so we’ll skip all of the parts that you don’t want to know about and fast forward to March 18^th. It was a Friday morning and your mom mentioned to me that morning that she thought she might be pregnant. Of course, I was a little surprised and not completely convinced, but you see, your mom is very in tune with her body. She wanted to wait to get the test but I convinced her to let me run to the drug store that night. We were pleasantly informed of your impending arrival about 30 minutes later when that Walgreen’s brand pregnancy test said “pregnant”. Actually it flashed “pregnant”, or maybe it flashed “this is for real, get ready”. We were absolutely beside ourselves with excitement. This was the moment that I thought things would be changed forever. I was wrong.

I’m sure you know by now that your mother is one determined, strong, persistent, and stubborn individual. I mean that in all of the nicest ways. You see, your mom has trained for a marathon and this upcoming event was not going to be anything short of her training for the greatest moment of our lives…you coming into the world. It’s a little bit overwhelming to be married to someone who can beat you in a 4 mile race. This is especially true given the fact that you are in decent shape yourself, and have competed in athletics for much of your life, and spent 8 years in the Army and all of the physical training that goes with it. I also have quite a few 4 plus mile runs to my credit. She beat me, badly. Your mom in all of her determined preparation was set on making sure that you had the most natural and healthy development possible. Exercise? She did it all; running and yoga 4-5 times a week all with you inside of her. She even climbed to the top of a pretty dang steep mountain top with me when you were 2 and half months from being born. (Earmuffs) Your mom is a badass. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am to have someone that inspires me to be a better person and can stick their foot in my (earmuffs) ass in such a loving way. You, my daughter, are fortunate to have such a great mom. She has already proven that she would go to any lengths to make sure you are ok.

We’ll fast forward to the day of labor, the day before you were born. Mom awoke around 1am to find that the first signs of you coming had started. “No, go to work” she told me. “I just need some help at the grocery store later on but I’ll be fine”. Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too but she wanted to work until the “real labor” started. Of course she had a to-do list to conquer that day and the minor signs of labor weren’t going to stop her from completing her list of tasks. I went to work but only stayed a few hours. I didn’t sleep much earlier that night after she told me her labor had started. I was really excited to know that you were coming soon. I came home from work early and when I arrived I noticed that your mom had moved into “real labor”. This was happening. You were coming. She went with the punches, breathed through her discomfort, and listened to her birth team. She didn’t listen to me quite as much, but what is new, right? Let me remind you, your mom is tough. The kind of "tough" I have never seen before. This was all of her work, preparation, and determination coming together at once. Yes, I am bragging about your mom. I’m allowed to. We did have one slight problem. You see, you are just as stubborn and determined as your mom, it seems. You didn’t want to come out even with all of your mom’s strong pushing. I can’t wait to see what the standoffs between you two look like when you’re 15 years old. Yes, that’s sarcasm, little one. Get used to it from me. Ultimately, we needed to get to the hospital to help get you out. That’s exactly what we did and out you came at 6:58am on Sunday the 20^th of November, 2011.

A few minutes after you were born, I got to hold you for the first time. You still had not opened your eyes but you were breathing well, your skin was a good healthy color, and your little arms and legs were working just fine. I walked away from the bed where your mom and the others were and just looked at you. Tears started flowing down my face because I was so glad you were here and that you were ok. I had been waiting for you to show up for a long time and now, here you were. Dad probably doesn’t cry enough, so all of those backed up tears were falling on you but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact you then opened your eyes for the first time and looked at me. It was almost as if you were saying “Hello, dad. I’m glad to see you too. It’s ok. You don’t need to cry.” THIS was when I knew I would be changed forever. Of course, seeing you stare at me with your curious eyes didn’t make my tears stop. I know you probably won’t remember this moment but I will. Someday when you get to hold your child for the first time you’ll know exactly what I am talking about. In the meantime, your mom and I will look forward to learning from you as much as you will hopefully learn from us. Welcome to the world, Stella. We’re glad you’re in our lives.