Day One.

Entry #1

The moment I held you in my arms, I knew I would have a hard time letting go. You looked so beautiful even with your eyes closed. I could see me in your face. I could see your mother in your actions. You were fussy. But I loved that in your mother and I love it in you. You’re perfect and more than everything I wanted in a child.

I was so excited to become your daddy. I was ecstatic that you were my daughter. I began to imagine you as a toddler, waddling about. I saw you as a bouncing toddler running away from me as you giggled so that you could avoid going to bed. I saw you confidently marching out of the door for your first day of school. I saw you as a teenager bringing home a boy and declaring that he was your boyfriend. I saw you as a young woman walking down the aisle by my side. And I saw you as a mother. I saw your whole future but the doctors said that everything I saw would be impossible.

You don’t know how much I cried. You looked so frail and defenseless in that big incubator. I wanted to take the pain away, I really did, baby. I wanted to be the one to be sick because your mother wanted you more than anyone else. She loved you before you were even made. I loved you, too but I have to admit your mother loved you the most.

When we found out that you were growing in your mommy’s tummy, I couldn’t help but wonder if you were a girl or boy. I wondered if you would be a rap lover like me or a strong independent woman like your mother. I wondered if you would love your mother more than me. I wondered what your favorite color would be. I wondered about anything and everything.

The moment the doctor told us that you were a girl, I was happy and worried. I was happy to have a daughter to call my own but I was worried because I thought you would take after your mother. Your mother is such a strong woman, physically and emotionally. Dealing with two strong females sounded like a lot of work. But now, I regret thinking about how tiring it might have been.

I told you that I cried when we found out you wouldn’t have a future but your mother didn’t. She held in her tears and sobs. She insisted that you were just like her, a strong person. She said that you would pull through and live to be over a hundred years old. I cried even more when I heard her say that because I know her too well. She was putting up a strong front so that she didn’t seem weak. She wanted to be strong for everyone but she couldn’t.

When I went back to her room after visiting you in the NICU, I heard her heartbreaking sobs and cries from outside. I didn’t want to make things worse so I sat outside like a coward. We wanted to believe that you really would live to be over a hundred years old but what the doctors told us tore our dreams apart.

It hurt more than it should have because you’re our first baby. You are our miracle. We wanted a baby for so long but God would not bless us quickly. I found out that God had been taking His time to create a perfect child for us. But I guess you are so perfect that He wanted you back with him as soon as possible.

If you’re wondering, I’m still outside of your mother’s room. She’s still crying. I am, too. Baby, hang in there. Promise me you’ll become a waddling toddler, a confident new student, a boy-loving teenager, a bride, a mother. Just promise me that you’ll make it through this night.

Baby, I love you. Your mother loves you. Our whole dang family loves you. So don’t leave behind so many people who love you so dearly.

Good night, honey.

Good night, Younghae.