I lucked out. I mean, I seriously lucked out big time. The father of my child just so happens to be the love of my life, my absolute soulmate, and the best fucking dad ever.
From the moment Myla was born, Scottie was there. Not just physically, but emotionally. He was there, forever.
I knew even before I got pregnant, he would be an amazing father. I saw the way he was with children, how much he cared for his loved ones, how he treated my little sister like his very own. He was always thinking about others, way more than he ever thought of himself. It’s one of the many qualities I truly admire about him.
I’m gonna be honest here. I was skeptical about how he would be with Myla once she was born. I knew he had little experience with babies, and newborns are a whole new world. But all my worries went out the window when he held her for the first time. That first moment they made skin to skin contact, I knew just how great of a father he would be.
There were some moments, in our early weeks with Myla, that I would think he was even a better parent than I was. He always seemed to get her to calm down when she was fussy, and I felt like the only thing I was good for was my milk. Thinking back, I’m sure these are normal postpartum thoughts… but he really did know how to comfort her.
It’s like, the moment we brought her home from the hospital, the ultimate dad mode switch had been flipped and he was literally super dad. He did everything for me, for us. I would not have been able to survive those first two weeks home without him.
I love seeing him and Myla together. It makes me feel so complete, so overwhelmed with love. I love the way he cuddles her, and sings to her, and hold her on his shoulders. I love the way he talks to her, and protects her. I love the way he beatboxes when she’s fussy to make her calm down (works every time). And most importantly, I love the way he loves her.
I could not have picked a better life partner, a better father, a better best friend.