Flash back to March of 2006. Lovely English Lass and I had been married for 4 months when we had the talk about starting a family. We had just received word I was going to be the Management Officer in Luxembourg, and we were moving in August. After much discussion, we decided we were going to wait on children until we moved somewhere LEL couldn't work on the local economy. (Being a citizen of the EU helps sometimes, no?) Well, two weeks later, the best man at my wedding and his lovely wife came to DC for a visit. When we went to a diner for dinner one night, LEL ate a pickle off my plate. LEL despises pickles. The very next morning I went to the CVS for a pregnancy test. I was so early it wasn't even open yet. When they finally did, I asked for the tests. The woman helped me get one, put a grave look on her face and said, "Good Luck." When I replied that I was happily married, she brightened and cheerfully wished, "Good Luck!"
After coming home, LEL took the test and sure enough, we were going to be parents. In a strange quirk, it was Mother's Day in the UK. I took our guests sightseeing while LEL skyped with her parents to give them the news. Knowing her today, my mother-in-law jokes that lovely little girl, in sperm form, probably elbowed her way past all the others to get to the egg no matter what. She was coming when she was ready, and not on anyone elses schedule.
We moved to Luxembourg when LEL was 6 months pregnant. It was going well, and although work was difficult, we liked living in Lux. Our OB/GYN had delivered a few of the Grand Duke's kids, so we knew we had the best. Then, on December 3, the contractions started. LEL watched Take That's reunion show on tv, and I went to take a nap knowing it would be a long night. Sure enough, at 10 pm, her water broke. I immediately started moving her to the car, but LEL was worried about something. "Lost is on now. I'll miss it." After reassuring her we were taping it, I got her in the car and to the hospital. Less than 4 hours later (long enough to watch Lost, as LEL reminds me), after being frightened by our German nurse, ("PUSH! CONTINUE, CONTINUE, CONTINUE!), and bemused by our laid back doctor, ("ok, push. Good. Good! I'll be back in 5.") we were joined by our lovely little girl. All 9 lbs 1 oz of her. After briefly cleaning her off, they handed her to my wife. The first words spoken between mother and daughter were, "You're my baby!" And right there I could see the love between them. That's when we became a family.
Since then we've moved twice, added a little brother, and my lovely little girl was diagnosed as being on the Autism Spectrum. She's very high functioning, which is a blessing to us. She's also very tall for her age (over 4 feet tall) which does cause issues. She's got a crush on a boy 4 years older than her at school, and loves swimming. She doesn't march to the beat of her own drummer. She's got her own orchestra playing. We've had to work with her on knowing that her opinion is not always the same as others. Just because she doesn't want a croissant doesn't mean her brother can't have one. But, that's just Lovely Little Girl.
Lovely little girl is a blessing. When she comes up to me and asks for a cuddle, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. When I get an unprompted "I love you" I have the best day. When she gets the giggles, and is playing well with her brother, all is right with the world. And when she looks at you with those big eyes of hers whose color we can't seem to place (blue-ish grey seem to be the consensus) you can't help but comment on how striking she is. Hopefully one day she and I will have the relationship my wife and her dad have together. But, like everything in this world, it'll be on my lovely little girl's terms. I'll happily agree to that. Happy Birthday little girl. Daddy loves you.
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