His and Hers Parigi: From Paris to Parenthood: February 2010

[Josh, right after Sara told him she thought she had gone into labor.]

It's time to put the “his” back in “hisandhersparigi”! Yes, I'm bringing “his” back (but leaving “sexy” right where I left it). We're not in Parigi anymore, so without that, and without me, our blog was running dangerously close to being called “Hers,” which is one towel short of a rack, and sounds suspiciously like “hearse,” which is creepy.

[The day Amelia was born!]

So, I'm a father. Above and beyond the incredible fabulousness of that, I have to admit that it's still unbelievable—literally hard to believe. It's like when I started my first “real job”: it took weeks before I stopped feeling like I was “playing office,” and would be called out for it at any minute. And it's a lot like after getting married—for weeks, I had the hardest time keeping a straight face when I used words like “wife” and “our wedding.” To make a timely analogy, it's a bit like remembering to write “2010” on checks. The first time you do, it's incredibly deliberate, and feels like make-believe. After that, it eventually becomes natural, but every once in a while, it's April, and you find yourself slipping up and writing last year's date.

No, I don't forget I have a daughter! Ever since we decided to expand our family, the whole time Sara was pregnant, and most of all since Amelia was born, we obviously and blissfully have thought of little else. But still, when words like “daughter,” “father,” and “Amelia” come up in conversation, I still skip a beat, and grin a bit internally, before saying them.

A couple of weeks back, at the pediatrician's office, I was checking us in, and the surly desk agent asked me “Child's date of birth?” I paused a few beats too long before responding. Clearly I hadn't forgotten—that's one of those Dates When Everything Changes; plus, who can forget a Halloween birth date?!? I had just never been asked that question that way before. When I told friends or colleagues I hadn't seen for a while that Amelia had arrived, they might ask “When was she born?” But that day at the doctor's office when I was asked for my daughter's birthdate, I literally had to pause for a second and say in my head “You are a father. You have a daughter. Her name is Amelia Simone Gibson. Her date of birth is October 31, 2009.”

Now, three months on, daddyness has become much more natural (though I'll admit to snapping awake once or twice on the couch at 4AM, and thinking “Where am I? I have a daughter? I have a daughter!”

You bet I have a daughter! I love her with every shred of my essence. But I think Sara and I are doing a good job of keeping our identities straight. We' are each ourselves first, husband and wife second, and mother and father third. We wouldn't have Amelia if we didn't have each other, and we wouldn't have each other if we weren't each comfortable in our own skin. Amelia is the pinnacle of our world, but the peak of the pyramid can't be held up unless its foundations are strong.

So yes, since Amelia was born, everything has changed, but nothing has changed. I'm still happy to be me, thrilled to be with Sara, so grateful to love and be loved by my mom, and honored to be a part of Sara's family.