Dear Evelyn

Dear Evelyn,
I promised myself that I would allow 12 months to pass before writing my memories of the day you were born. Here is the story of your birth, as told by your dad.

It was December 1, 2008 and the snow started falling at exactly midnight. Sorry….I should start from the beginning…

I met your mother in high school and asked her to go out with me on October 30th, 1995. I was pretty nervous, but we had been flirting a little bit during show choir practices, so I thought it was okay to take a chance asking out the cutest girl on stage.

Sorry…. Too far back….

It was Tuesday, November 25th and I had just gotten back from a long day of work. Your mother had been busy making sure everything was in order for you to come join us, even putting air in the tires of the car so we could get to the hospital safely. I sauntered to bed a little before 11. At midnight, your mother awoke and informed me she was having contractions. I leapt from my bed to pack the car when I realized it was snowing outside (amazing how that seems to happen in every birth story). You were kicking away and causing contractions every 4 to 5 minutes so I hastily shoveled the driveway and packed. Assuming my memory serves me correctly, 8 inches of snow had fallen and the snow blower was broke.

As I remember, it was the greatest driving performance ever. The details are too lengthy to include here, but they include a polar bear, the Bumble, and a rabid reindeer. No matter what anyone in the family tells you, I am a good driver. When we arrived at the hospital we walked around for a little while, and came home. We were told that we could expect to be back very soon.

It was November 30th, the night before you brought your smile to the world and the light to my life. We had all of our bags packed, again. I spent a restless night planning for all of the scenarios you might encounter in your life. Rest assured I will have a plan if anything goes awry and you need something; Dad will always know best! At 5am I gave up trying to sleep and rushed outside only to find more snow (amazing, it happened again). This time it was atleast a foot and a half of snow. Even though I had fixed it the week prior, the snow blower was broken. Again, I shoveled the driveway and sidewalk by hand. By my best estimate, our driveway and sidewalk is close to two miles long. I finished in just under 10 minutes, still not fast enough to avoid your mother’s temporary lapse of patience.

Your mother and I arrived at the hospital and got checked into the room. Grandpa Tom called to ask if we had arrived on time. True-to-form, Grandpa Tom had driven down early in the morning and was just pulling into the parking lot when he called, even though he told me he was about an hour away. For the record, I knew he was closer than he said. Again, a lesson that Dad always knows, even though he may not look like it! Grandpa Tom was very, very excited to meet you since you are his first grand-daughter, which provides him with lots of bragging rights!

Your mother and I stayed in the room most of the morning passing time eating granola bars and pre-made sandwiches. Your mother was handily beating me in a game of cards when her expression drastically changed and she put down her cards. She says it was a strong contraction, but I think that she was worried that I was about to make an incredible comeback and win.

Within an hour, the doctors were there and your mom was pushing. I provided some encouraging words, but I’m pretty sure your mother did not hear a single one. Nothing was going to stop her from welcoming you to the world.

Before I knew it, Dr. Jenny was placing you on mom’s chest. You looked very peaceful; while I’m positive I looked absolutely terrified. You were enjoying time with mom and she was enjoying time with you. I was left to contemplate your first day of school, your first school dance, pizza sales, first dibs on girl scout cookies, doing math and science homework with you (find your mother for help in art), prom, graduation, college, college graduation, and a wedding. I have my ‘father-of-the-bride speech’ outlined but it only works if you don’t start dating until you are 25 and get married at a minimum of 37. I also thought of the fun adventures you and I will have when mom is away for work and we get a father-daughter weekend. All that planning was really stressing me out, so fortunately you started a 24 hour fuss-fest where you refused to sleep for more than 30 minutes.

Your vivid personality and vivaciousness were evident in the first day of life. You are going to be a strong, independent beautiful woman, just like your mother. While currently some of your hugs are rather aggressive, I could tell from day one that you are going to be a caring and loving little girl.

I want you to know how proud I am of your mother and that I think she is an amazing person. I hope you can grow up to be just like her someday, except with your dad’s blue eyes!

Even through all of the sleepless nights and fussy moments the first year of life, I have loved every single second of the 365 days you have been alive. Your smile can brighten even the worst of my days. The hugs, even though few and far between, are the best part of my day. Thank you for coming into my life and making it better. I hope that I will always make you proud. I love you and will always be here for you.

Love,
Daddy