#GirlDad

In honor of Father’s Day, Alamo City Moms Blog is bringing you a series of posts written by local dads about topics related to fatherhood. 

“What do you mean? Are you sure it is a/another girl?”

I know fathers who have felt this way, at least initially, and before my first daughter was born I did too. But then there she was: eight weeks early—and I was instantly in love.

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Let me back up for a minute… When my wife, Taylor, was pregnant with our first child the feeling of being a mom was almost instant for her. From the first sonogram picture it was real and only magnified when she could feel our baby start to kick. For me, it never really sunk in. Of course, yes, I did realize that we were going to have a baby and was excited about it, but having never been through this before, I paled in comparison to Taylor’s level of connection with our unborn child while she was developing from an embryo to a fetus to a baby. It really wasn’t until 32 weeks, when our daughter, Harper, decided that it was time to come out and see the world, that I really got it. But I can tell you that since the second I saw her and followed the NICU nurses out of the operating room my life has never been the same. In an instant, it was real.

Growing up, and maybe even more so as an adult, I have always been a “guys guy.” What does that really mean, you may ask? Well, simply, I enjoy sports and outdoors and really all things “boy,” including the humor. I just knew that I was always destined to have a boy so that we could watch college football, root for the Spurs, shoot Nerf guns at each other, play video games together (yes, I am still a kid at heart), and of course laugh at each other’s jokes. My son was going to be great, probably the next Rocky Calmus (LB for the 2000 National Champion Oklahoma Sooners), we were going to love all the same things, and it was going to be perfect!

But I believe God has a way of giving us what we need and not necessarily what we want. And on March 28, 2009, I got exactly what I needed. At 32 weeks, this tiny baby swaddled in pink needed more protection, care, and love than I had ever shown anyone in my life. Literally in less than the five minutes that it took to move her from the operating room to the NICU I felt a sense of purpose and pride that you can’t understand until you become a father. Although some days were scary, Harper left the hospital perfectly fine 45 days later.

During the first year Harper grew, and although I never would’ve imagined I could’ve loved her more than I did when she was born, my love for her grew as well. As she got older, she found my jokes and imitations funny and would even start to rib me back. She would watch Sooner football with me, and we would go play outside together. Half tomboy, half princess, with my wife’s features and my personality, she wasn’t a clone but more like a reflection in one of those mirrors that makes you look better/thinner than you actually are.

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I adore her, but the feeling is mutual, so when she would get so excited to play house or dolls or tea party with me, how could I say no? Harper is now seven, and our bond has never been stronger. She loves to chant “Go, Spurs, Go!”, root against Boomer Sooner (I blame my Longhorn wife entirely for this), help me fix things around the house, shoot Nerf guns, hit golf balls, and play Angry Birds. I know she does these things not only because she likes them but because she knows that I enjoy them and she wants to spend time with me. Likewise, we do “girl stuff,” too: make bracelets, have tea parties, play school, and enjoy whatever game she has invented that day because I truly love my time with her as well.

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My wife is now 27 weeks pregnant, and the thoughts that I had years ago now about needing a boy the first or second time around are laughable. A happy, healthy baby who, God willing, goes to term this time is all that I’ve wanted since the moment we found out Taylor was pregnant. As luck would have it, we are having another girl.

Do I feel sorry for myself now that I know I’ll likely never have a son? Not one bit.

The only group of individuals I feel bad for is one I will start meeting way too soon… I have been planning for Harper’s dates since her NICU days, wondering what I could do to get teenage boys who come to the door to appreciate the value of what they’ll take away when they drive off with one of my girls in their car. My wife tells me that answering the door with a shotgun and showing them the six foot hole I’ll have prepared for them in the backyard may not be the best approach. Lucky for me, my oldest is only seven, so I’ve got at least another 15 or so years to figure it out.

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A San Antonio transplant from rural Oklahoma, Jeff Henderson has been married to his Longhorn wife, Taylor, for more than 10 years despite their Texas/OU rivalry. With a seven-year-old daughter and another one on the way, he is a bonafide #GirlDad who loves spending time with his family and has grown to accept that he will be living with all things pink for the foreseeable future.

Guest Author
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