How We Began

1 Day Old

Here is a picture, uncropped, unedited, from July 4th--the next day after Aletheia was born late in the evening on the 3rd. It is amazing that in less than four months she has changed from this tiny 7 lb. bundle to a 14 lb. little girl who likes to sit up, stand up, laugh and smile. Compare this picture to the one posted yesterday. The metamorphosis is incredible.

I don't remember who took this picture. It wasn't me--I'm the one holding Aletheia. You could have entered the hospital room 100 times at random on that day, and 87 times I would be the one holding the baby. She and I talked a lot that day. Well, I talked; she listened. I told her how glad I was that she was here, and how much I had been looking forward to meeting her, and that I had been in need of a younger ally for quite some time, and now, if she was willing, we could team up against everyone else. In other words, I set out as soon as possible to make Aletheia a Daddy's girl. I told Sandy that she could have the next baby--this one is mine.

I don't know what kind of impact those first hours have had, but it's clear that there is a significant bond between us. I like it that when she is upset and cries in anyone else's arms, that I can take her and she'll calm down instantly. I like it that when I smile at her, she breaks out into that huge toothless grin and shakes her arms like she just won the lottery. I'm already dreading the day that it take more to make her day than just smiling her direction.

Of course, she has her own special relationship with her mother, and the truth is that she would smile at Adolf Hitler if he grinned at her. Allie's easygoing that way. But sometimes I feel like one of the old men in all those fairy tales, who has the Very Special Daughter Who Daily Brightens His Otherwise Dreary Existence. Maybe that's the standard father-daughter dynamic, but it's the coolest thing I've ever experienced.

Last week at dinner a friend caught me and Aletheia engaging in one of our half-hour smile-a-thons, where I smile at her as big as possible and she smiles and giggles back, and we just keep repeating that until she gets hungry or falls asleep. Our friend said, "See that look on her face? That's adoration. It lasts about 18 years."

Eighteen years. Six thousand, five hundred and seventy days. Possibly close to one hundred thousand exchanged smiles.

I'll take it.