Having a new baby in your life, you encounter firsts everyday. Her first bath, her first smile, the first time she squeezed your hand- even the less desirable but no less memorable first time she poops/pees/spits up on you- all go on the list of new things you experience thanks to this new little bundle of joy. All of these things remind you that you're a parent now, and brings on the joy/stress/wonderment/fear that this little one is going to be completely dependent on you for some time to come.
Which brings me to another first which really made it all hit home. Her first bill. A medical bill, addressed to this little girl, not yet but a few weeks on this earth. And the joy and wonderment more than slightly gives way to the stress and fear when you realize that this dependency isn't just going be an emotional transaction. And yes- we all know how much it costs to raise a child these days- but it's suddenly different when it's black and white (and maybe a little red due to the hospital's logo). It's as if there's a letter attached stating: You owe such and such amount, and guess what? It's just the beginning, pops.
I realize the time will come where she'll pop in the room while I am watching TV or penning my memoirs, and squeak: "Hey Dad, can I have twenty bucks?" But we're not there yet. And yes, we've already spent more than the GDP of some third-world countries on various needs and supplies for her arrival and sustenance, but it's just different when it comes in bill form.
There's one thing I can always count when I wake up in the morning (be it 8am, 4am...): and that is I will get another day of firsts from from my little girl. I know that they can't all be the warm and fuzzy kind- yet part of me wants a little time a buffer of say a few months, to retain the innocent and sun-shiney side of child-rearing. Ah hell, if I'm asking for time- gimme a few decades instead- maybe by that point I'll be ready for the slings and arrows.
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