Sixteen

KaylaWow. It’s hard to believe, but my darling daughter, scourge of stupid bigotry and nightmare of fundy intolerance, voracious reader of grown up literature and writer of beautiful poetry, kind, insightful, intelligent, exuberant, and unapologetic mistress of all things mysterious, turns sixteen years old today.

She’s had sixteen years to hone the edge on her tongue, and she has taken full advantage.

She wasted no time in getting started, either. She was born by C-section and displayed her contrary personality from square one. Despite the repeated annoying attempts to block my view with that stupid paper screen, I watched as the doctor reached in and grabbed hold of my lovely little girl. First came a little tiny foot, which suddenly came to a halt a few inches outside my wife’s belly. The other leg had caught inside. Back in went the first foot, and out came two feet. But Kayla was not letting go that easily.

KaylaArmpits somehow managed to get wedged behind rib cage. In went two feet, out came two feet and two arms. But no head. Again, with nothing but a chin to use as leverage, she was simply refusing to enter the cold cruel world. Finally, with one last insertion and withdrawal, out came the most beautiful baby girl ever to grace this planet.

Somewhere in the depths of my brain I understood that the piercing wail threatening to explode my brain was not an air raid siren. The medical staff may not have been so sure.

Due to complications, my wife was unconscious, and remained that way for nearly a week. I was the first to hold my little bundle of joy, directly from the doctor’s hands into my arms.

KaylaBy the time she was born, my daughter already owned quite the little library of children’s books. She’d heard them many times over the previous 9 months. I regularly laid my head against the swollen belly of my wife and read Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck, The Little Mermaid, and even Grimm’s fairy tales.

So it was no real surprise when she instantly ceased her screaming when I began to speak to her. There is no doubt that my voice was familiar. My daughter knew me before she was born, and I like to think that my voice was a warm blanket, consoling her after the trauma of birth.

It was amusing but also unsurprising that she immediately resumed the air raid warning when the nurse extricated her from my arms to clean her up and weigh and measure her. Not for one second was there anything resembling quiet in the delivery room until she was returned to The Voice. My Voice. Her Daddy. Me.Kayla

Sixteen years have gone by since that very day. Over that time, she’s grown more close to her Mom. She’s gone through all the little and big things that little girls go through to become teenagers, half way to womanhood. She doesn’t include me in every little thing she does, and she no longer screams when we are apart. But I’m not jealous or envious or resentful. No matter how much time passes, no matter how much she grows up, no matter how vehemently she may assert her independence, there is one thing that will never change.

From that very first moment, sixteen years ago today, she will always be Daddy’s Little Girl.

6 Responses to “Sixteen”

  1. Martyn Says:

    I am so happy for you. I have never had a daughter or a son and it is some way a regret, but such is life. I now feel the need to bang on about horses. My biggest love are piebalds or pintos or paint horses as you will know them. Did you know that all the horses in the Americas were mainly introduced by the Spanish because the indigenous ones had died out long before.I also have to say that I have a surrogate daughter called Arlene. I have strong paternal feelings for her, which I have told her about, and she is cool about it. All power to your celebration.

  2. Martyn Says:

    Have to say that I also get nerdy with Arlene’s dad. He has a major train set which I love.

  3. timmi Says:

    What a lovely post, gawd, I’m crying. I remember Amber’s 16th … it’s like .. a BIG DEAL. Crystal will reach that milestone next summer. Happy Birthday to your girl (who was born exactly one year and one month earlier than my kid, btw) and way to go dad.

  4. Lou FCD Says:

    Geez. Apparently I made Kayla cry, too.

    Sorry everyone, didn’t mean to do that.

    🙂

  5. anothersadsong Says:

    yes you did.
    Don’t even lie.
    =]

  6. Lou FCD Says:

    OK, you got me.

    I’m sadistic that way.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: