November 27, 1966

The day my daughter was born

There befalls between Goblins and Santa a very special day. Occasionally, November’s fourth Thursday will attempt to steel the limelight, but for those in the know, nothing overshadows the importance of the twenty-seventh day of November, for it was on this date my daughter was born.

On November 27, 1966, sometime around 2:30 in the afternoon, in the hospital’s waiting room for expectant fathers, I received great news: I was the father of a baby girl. I was directed to a viewing window in the nursery where a wrinkled, red-faced little thing was pointed out as being the special delivery package that my wife and I had been anxiously awaiting to arrive.

Looking back, there are two things I remember feeling as I gazed at that tiny bundle of wonderment. I remember feeling a sense of relief; finally, she was here. I also remember experiencing a distant empty feeling.

The more time I spent at the window looking at her, the less I wanted to be there. However, at the viewing window I remained; something kept me from leaving. I began looking at the other babies who were nestled in pastel pink or blue blankets. Two babies down from where mine was crying her head off, slept the prettiest baby I had ever seen. The more I watched her the more I was drawn, both physically and emotionally, toward her. I wanted to be with her; I wanted to lift her from the plastic what-ever-they-call-those-things and hold her in my arms. I felt love for a baby who was not mine. Although this baby was someone else’s, a strange force beckoned I spend my time at the window looking at her instead of my own. The baby, unlike mine who was bawling to beat the band, lay in peaceful slumber.

I reluctantly returned my attention to my baby. Positioning myself in front of her, I stared blankly through the glass. After a minute or so of watching my baby cry, I turned about to leave when a nurse from inside the nursery tapped the glass. She asked my name. Upon hearing my reply, she pointed toward the pretty little baby and said, “This baby is yours.”