Quinton Skinner - Do I Look Like a Daddy to You?: A Survival Guide for First-Time Fathers

I looked down. Natashas face was red, her eyes were closed. She was so small. I recognized her face from the ultrasound images. She had finally come out to live with us.

I hadnt thought much in advance about how this moment was going to feel. Mostly I had just hoped that everyone would survive, and Id left it at that. But now it had happened. Natasha was alive and well. I was a father.

She was the most beautiful and amazing thing Id ever seen. She was less than five minutes oldjust like in the Stevie Wonder songbut already I loved her more than anything or anyone else in the world. I reached out for the rail on the bed to steady myself, suddenly realizing that I might pass out.

No matter what else ever happens to me, I know that this was the best moment of my life. Everything good in me, and everything worthwhile in this universe we try and fail to understand, touched me at that moment and I was forever changed.

Most of this book is about what you can do for your child. But youll soon find out what your child will do for you. Your child will make your heart ache with love. She will make you feel more than you ever did before. Sometimes I think that Natasha gave me faith in myself, because she showed me how great my capacity for love is. Ill always be grateful to her for that.

A DELL TRADE PAPERBACK

Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Random House, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036

Copyright 2001 by Quinton Skinner

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

DTP and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Skinner, Quinton, 1968
Do I look like a daddy to you? : a survival guide for first-time fathers / Quinton Skinner.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-307-48388-1
1. Fatherhood. 2. PregnancyPopular works. 3. InfantsCare.
4. Father and infant. I. Title.

HQ756 .S5455 2001
306.8742dc21
00-052376

FFG

v3.1

For Natasha

Epilogue
Happy Birthday, Little Girl

Thanks, Ginny, for the idea.

Love and gratitude to my friends and family for graciously allowing me to depict them in this book.

Thanks to Jacob Hoye and Elizabeth Ziemska, for getting this project started; Alika Pistek, for her continued support, good advice, and belief in my work; and in particular Robin Michaelson, for her sensitive and astute contributions toward the final stages of molding the manuscript into a book.

Thanks to Carol Larson for her insights and humor, and for taking good care of Natasha while I was writing this book.

And for Sarah, a word something like thanks, but about a million times stronger and which doesnt fade when the sound is over.

This book contains practical advice and information relating to pregnancy, childbirth, and child care, based on the authors personal experiences as a new father. It is not intended to replace the advice of your obstetrician or pediatrician. Parents and parents-to-be should regularly consult with their physicians/pediatricians in matters relating to the health, diet, and development of children and pregnant women.

Did I look like a Daddy? Well, I didnt think so, not even after the birth of my daughter, Natasha, on December 5, 1998. When she came home from the hospital Natasha set upon a strict regimen of sleeping, eating, and soiling her diapers. She was a perfect little creature, totally dedicated to her own survival and growth.

And what about me? Well, it was wintertime in Minnesota. The phrase cabin fever does scant justice to the sensation of pressing ones cheek to a cold windowpane and looking out on a frozen street that had sighed with greenery and life just months before. Sarah, my wife, and I were largely housebound with newborn Natasha, and in my rare spare moments I dared a look at the mirror in the bathroom.

Dad. Daddy. That was me. At least that was what I was supposed to be. But the guy in the mirror looked suspiciously like my old self. Where was the confidence, the paternal gravitas that I had hoped I would assume upon the birth of my first child? Where was the man who looked like he knew what he was doing?

The winter finally relented when Natasha was about two months old. It was still cold, the sky slate gray. But it was at least warm enough to go for a walk with Sarah and the babyuntil then, we had tried to keep Natashas newborn lungs protected from the harsh subzero temperatures. Natasha was becoming aware of her world just as the first hint of a spring thaw tinged the air.

We took Natasha to the toy store and checked out the stuffed animals. We carried her to the supermarket, to the urban lakes near our house, and for long strolls through the neighborhood. I liked to think of us as a mobile unit, rough and ready. We had survived the chaos and uncertainty of Natashas early infancyand instead of killing us, it had made us stronger.

The first thing I noticed was that people were looking at me differently. I had changed in the eyes of the world. I was a Daddy, and it was going to take some getting used to.

There were the old ladies, who all seemed to melt over the baby. There were other parents, with whom I was already sharing knowing nods and little smiles of commiseration. Young women looked on with warmth and interest, perhaps seeing in Natasha a facsimile of the offspring they dreamed of having one day.