Ila,

I've been high for ten days. Nothing can bring me down. Not screaming in the middle of the night, not a poopy diaper ten minutes after I just changed a poopy diaper that made me wonder if you were secretly eating soul food or barbecue or enchiladas because there is no way that all of that could come from just breast milk, not crying when you no longer want Daddy to hold you because you want boobs, and Daddy doesn't have boobs, so you have no use for me at the moment. Nothing.  

The closer that we got to the due date, I was constantly asked, "Are you ready?" I would always say that I was as ready as I could be. Our bags were packed, everything was set up with the hospital, home was organized, we were just waiting for the arrival. I knew that there was nothing that I could do to prepare for this. It is no simulation. I've been a (step) dad for almost five years now, but this is a totally different experience. I've been present every step of the way. From week 1 day 1 to week 40 day 5. The journey was amazing. Watching you grow inside of your mother. Wondering what you would look like, and praying that you would be healthy. Seeing you enter the world was the most miraculous moment that I have ever witnessed. Your mother is a soldier. 17 Hours of labor. I wouldn't have made it through 17 minutes. Intense ain't the word. When she finally started to push, after hours of contractions that no doubt would've had me on the floor ugly crying, I was focused on Al's face. Trying to help her breathe. I didn't know what it was looking like down there and wasn't sure if I wanted to. I got myself together, heard my inner voice say, "Stop being a punk and watch your baby be born!" I looked. It was definitely a view that I will remember forever. The second that I saw you exit her body, and enter this world, my life changed forever. I was supposed to cut the cord, but everything was happening so fast. The midwife tried to hand me the scissors like I was an umbilical cord cutting pro. I didn't want to mess anything up, plus I had tears in my eyes. I told her to cut the cord, I didn't need that experience. Just do it right! She did, I kissed your mother, and we cried tears of joy. Our dream had come true. My brother kept telling me how excited he was for me to experience this. I didn't know exactly what "this" was. Now I know. I can't explain it, but I love this. I love being a father. 

We've wanted you for so long. At times, it seemed as if you would never come. We were tested, but we persevered and fought for you.  Now that you are here, it still doesn't seem real. I can't stop staring at you. I am in awe. You are perfect. In every way. When we first found out that we were pregnant, I thought that you would be a boy. Well, I hoped that you would be a boy. For all of the reasons that men want sons. So that I could have a little Ry running around the house. A little potna. Somebody that I can teach everything that I wish that I was taught about being a man. I had a vision of us on the basketball court all hours of the night, training like Jake and Jesus Shuttlesworth. However, that dream was put on hold when we went to the doctor in week 20. "This baby is a girl." I'll never forget that strong Indian accent saying those beautiful words. A girl. Wow. Negro logic states that men get daughters as karma for being no good. I have to disagree, that makes you sound like some kind of punishment. You are everything but that. An absolute gift, I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I wouldn't trade you for the world. And if you are the result of karma, I guess that I did something right.

I needed you. I needed new life. I needed to see a miracle. Your name is a dedication to your grandmother, I wish that she could be here physically, we lost her about a year and a half before you joined us, but I know that she is with us, she is with you. You are the product of myself and your mother, but, you are your own person. I can't wait to see who you turn out to be. I am honored to serve as your father. I am here to help you. I hope that I can guide and teach you, as I learn from you.  I am not a perfect man. I've made many errors in every role that I've played in my life. But as your father, I have a clean slate. I know that this won't last long. Now that I think about it, I already made a mistake when I set you up for failure by leaving your diaper hanging halfway off of you. I guess I was jamming too hard to our diaper changing song. (Wipe me down. Shoulders, chest, pants, shoes.) I will make plenty of mistakes along the way, but lack of effort will not be one. I will give you my all. I will protect you and provide for you. You are mine, and I've got you. I love you. Always.