The Blogfathers

I can remember it like it was yesterday, not unlike any other fall day. It would soon be a day I would never forget. I always knew this day would come, but I never knew once it had arrived, I would be so nervous for my inexperience. After all didn’t everyone know how to do it? Wasn’t this a rite of passage that men had done forever? I had seen this a few times in movies, and I thought I could at least make sure all the right things went in the right place and in the right order.

I was out front with the guys when she beckoned me. They all had a look of knowing my future, none of them wanting to show their knowledge of what was about to happen. I approached the door of her house, and peeked inside. This girl was beautiful, with perfect features, blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was basically everything I had dreamed she would be and more. She had a look that day like she knew we would bond with one another. I had not known her for very long, but I knew I would love her forever. I was about to do it for the first time.

As we went into her bedroom her eyes were shining and she had a sheepish grin. She held my fingers with one hand and with my other hand I caressed her cheek. She had perfect skin, unblemished and without lines, wrinkles, or torture by the sun. Her skin was soft and she turned her mouth to my hand. My hand was somewhat dirty and it was rather rough from playing ball with my buddies. Surely she was not going to put that in her mouth. Dear God! I jerked away my hand showing my awkwardness and she followed it as if I had taken something precious from her.

My hands worked slowly, as I trembled with fear at what was about to take place. My inexperience was showing, and I knew she was able to see the fear in my eyes. She seemed to sense the fear, so I planted a kiss on her forehead ever so gently to reassure her that I knew what I was doing. I actually had no idea, and my confidence, or lack thereof, was beginning to show. I helped her out of her clothes and things began to go much more swiftly. And then, her breathing and mine both quickened as we approached the task at hand. God or nature has a way of giving you just enough knowledge with such things.

I was surprised at how long it lasted. And I began to feel ill at ease, and unsure that what I was doing would get me to the end result. My buddies had told me that once you get started, it goes really fast. I, on the other hand, was taking forever. Maybe, I was taking too long. Was I doing this wrong? Did she want this to be over? My confidence began to wane. Then she shuddered. A small coo came from her mouth. Oh my God! Did I hurt her? What was I doing? What was she doing? The shock on my face was obvious and frozen in time. It had happened so quickly, her accident, that I had no time to react. And so I shouted out and this scared her. I looked at the ceiling and closed my eyes.

Her tears began and I felt horrible. I had scared her. She had scared me. This was all completely unexpected. I cleaned up the mess with a towel I found next to her dresser, and then I held her until she finished crying, soothing her and whispering in her ear that I loved her. I could feel her heart beat ever so swiftly at first and then it began to settle.

I knew at that moment that this memory was one that I would never forget. It was an instant that I would carry with me, always etched on my brain. I would discuss it with fervor with my friends. I can still see her face, and smell her skin, and feel the softness of her hair.

That first time I changed a diaper, my baby girl had peed all over my hand and down the changing table, completely missing the diaper in my other hand. And my startled shout was to her mommy who, being too tired and sore to come running, did eventually make her way into the room just in time to see me holding and soothing our crying baby girl. I thank God that it had only been the pee pee and not that mustard colored poo poo.

And so you see that fathers may not be masters at changing diapers. But we do learn from our mistakes. And we never, ever forget our first time.

[reprinted from Genuine Moments at The Philosophical Mother]

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