Eyes And Heart Wide Open

Terrified

Terrified.

I was terrified. Of being a dad. Of feeling helpless at the hospital. Of the earth-shattering life change that was coming.

Then, all of a sudden, pure joy. The world stopped as I watched a tiny head and delicate body immerge from an opening that should defy the laws of physics. It shouldn’t be possible. But somehow it was, and I saw it happen. The image is burned in my brain and imprinted on my soul forever.

A child. My child. A taste of creation.

I had never seen anything so incredible in my life. A healthy, beautiful, baby girl.

My amazing wife. How the hell did she just do that? My love and appreciation for her as a woman, my wife, and now a brand new mother, deepened. Everyone faded away and it was just me, her, and our newborn baby.

“Dad, do you want to cut the cord?” a male voice asked from somewhere.

“Huh? Dad?” I mumbled, my eyes glued to my daughter. My DAUGHTER. I’m a DAD. Wait, who was speaking? I really wasn’t interested in anything that didn’t involve staring at this child.

I re-awoke to the reality that there was a doctor in the room and a nurse standing next to me holding up a tray of sterilized surgical instruments, indicating to me what looked like a small pair of scissors. Honestly, I didn’t really want to, but I was so hypnotized by what was happening that I unwittingly just went along with whatever he said. He probably could have asked me for my wallet and the keys to my house and I would have given them to him. I grabbed the little sterilized scissors from the sterilized tray, he pointed where to cut, and I cut, and set the now unsterilized scissors back on the sterilized tray. Oops, I guess I wasn’t supposed to do that I thought to myself as my eyes caught a quick glimpse of panic in the doctor’s face staring down at his now tainted tray. Well, he’ll figure it out because that’s all the energy I could put towards anything else in that moment. My focus returned to my family.

My FAMILY. No longer just my wife and I. Just like that we were now a family of three.

Little cries filled the room as the nurse handed our baby girl to my wife. A precious moment. This tiny human, miraculously grown and carried inside her body for the past 9 months, now being held in mother’s arms.

“Hello there” my wife says as she embraces our daughter, the first of many consoling hugs to come. Already connected and familiar, just seeing each other in a new light.

What happens next is something that I’ll never forget. Something that will grow to define our daughter for years to come.

She’s placed on a scale, poked, prodded, and cleaned up. Nurses lovingly work hard to making sure our baby is healthy and strong. Often babies cry big gulping cries when all this is happening (this is exactly what my boys did when they were born a few years later). They’re naked, cold, and scared. But none of this seems to bother our little girl.

She doesn’t make a sound. I get up close, my first real good look at this heavenly creature, and I see these big beautiful eyes. How can her eyes be this big? Immediately it’s her most defining feature. These eyes are darting all around the room, taking in everything she can from her surroundings. I know she only sees light, dark, and blurry shapes, but I get the sense that she is not going to waste any time to take in and take on the world around her.

She’s perfect. And in that perfect moment, her eyes tell me exactly who she is. It’s as if she was saying “Hello daddy, I hope you’re ready to show me all the beauty here on this earth, because I can’t wait to see it.”

Feelings of terror resurface like waves pounding on a warm beach. Am I ready for this? I have no earthly idea. But maybe this heavenly human will teach me to overcome my earthly ideas.

We spend the next few hours feeling all the joy and fear of new parenting. A strange powerful feeling enters into me. It starts small, but slowly electrifies my body. I’ve felt slivers of this before, for my wife, my family and siblings, my baby sister, and even other small children. But that feeling really pales in comparison to this. What is this?

It resembles the feeling of love, but it’s more than that. Connection. Belonging. Furious and raging. Then gentle and soothing. She is a part of us. A part of me. Something that can never be separated. The feeling was expansion, like the Grinch, my heart grew three sizes that day. All of my heart. The pain and the elation. The sorrow and the happiness. The fear and the fierce. She tugged on every emotion. She picked up the violin of my heart strings and let me know she would not only become an expert musician, but she would turn this into a symphony.

We named her Zoe. Can’t explain it other than it just felt right.

Zoe Dance Christensen

Beauty Mark

When Zoe was four years old, my wife took her and our two boys to the zoo. It was a weekday and I was at work. Sometime in the middle of the day I got a stressed phone call from my wife that Zoe had climbed onto a big rock and fell, cutting her forehead just above the left eyebrow. It was a deep cut and there was a lot of blood. I left work and met up with my family at the urgent care.

There was a panicked calm on my wife’s face as she dealt not only with the stress and sadness of the situation, but also 2 little boys clueless to what was going on. She took the boys home and I stayed with Zoe to meet with the doctor who would let us know what the best course of action was.

Stitches.

While we waited for the doctor, I chatted with Zoe about what happened. She said she climbed on top of a rock to see something and then lost her balance and fell. I asked her if it hurt when she fell, she gave me a 4-year look of duh dad, of course it hurt, what a dumb question. It was a dumb question, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to ask it. I’ve never cut myself so deep to need stitches, I live life much too cautiously, so I genuinely wanted to know how it felt. At the age of 4 she had experienced an injury that I, at age the age of 30, had never experienced, and I was curious.

Overall, she had cried her cries and was in a good mood. The doctor came in and let us know that she would need some stitches. Zoe, a much braver soul than I, sat nervous but calm in the chair while the doctor went to work. I watched her face while each stitch went in. I could see her reaction to the pain and her tears leaking out slowly as he went. But she endured it well and within seconds of completion, jumped up at me for a hug. I was truly impressed. Wow, how did she do that?

9 years later, a tiny scar remains. Over the years, I started calling it her “beauty mark.” Obviously she is beautiful with or without the scar. It’s more of a reminder of the beautiful life that she lives. Zoe is adventurous, daring, always wanting to try new things, and not afraid to get hurt along the way.

The reminder really isn’t for her, although it can be if she wants. But her memory of that day has faded. She now only knows what we have told her, and seen the evidence and photos. No, the reminder is for someone like me. Someone who looks at her. That there is beauty in imperfection, and she is proof of that.

Her scars don’t make her more beautiful (that would be quite impossible!) but rather her scars show anyone that sees her or spends time with her that Zoe knows how to live, and that life is beautiful. All of it. Including the painful parts.

Matilda

When Zoe was 9, she surprised us when she expressed interest in wanting to try out for a musical production our local theater group was putting on of “Matilda the Musical, Junior.” She had been involved in dance for a few years, living up to her middle name, and put on a few performances with her dance studio, but she hadn’t yet showed an interest in theater. Since my wife and I both grew up doing theater, we of course encouraged her.

Now this was during the early years of COVID. So auditions for Matilda were held virtually. First she submitted a song and a monologue. Now I knew my girl could sing, I’d heard her many times and she had even sung with me a few times on my YouTube channel. Singing with Zoe is one of my favorite things to do! But I did not know the full extent of her ability to be a little expressive sassy convincing actor! My wife says that Zoe inherited my facial expressions and mannerisms so combine that with her inherited gift of dance from her mom and Zoe’s outgoing and explosive personality and, well, we may have created a theater monster!

She blew us and the directors away with a great audition tape and then virtual callbacks. It was her first show audition and she was cast in the ensemble AND Matilda understudy! Wow! We did not expect that for her first show! For the next few months we dropped Zoe off every week to rehearse. Because of COVID, we were unable to enter the building and watch any rehearsals whatsoever. So we really had no idea how things were going besides listening to her practice at home.

When Zoe wants something, she will work incredibly hard at it and give 110%. As Matilda’s understudy, she had the opportunity to perform one show as Matilda, and we were so nervous and excited. Performing on stage and especially playing a main role is incredibly nerve wracking! I’ve been there, but not at the age of 9!

It’s another one of those moments burned into my brain. I’ll never forget Zoe entering the stage, all eyes turn to her, she literally steps up onto a box, the center of attention, and she starts to sing. Solo. I’m sitting close enough that I can see her shaking, I hear the nervous pauses in her voice and breath. I’m on the edge of my seat. Is she going to make it through? Of course she does. We applause. I’m crying cuz my heart to tears valve broke a long time ago.

I’m so proud of my baby girl. She is so brave. I’m in awe of her.

She sang with heart. She performed with confidence. And she had a blast doing it. For the next few years, theater became her thing.

Heart

Look I could go on and on gushing about my daughter. Music, dance, theater, piano, saxophone, flute, cross country, basketball, track… It really doesn’t matter, if it’s something new and there’s a chance Zoe can experience it, she will, and nobody can stop her. Her talent, creativity and imagination knows no bounds.

She has incredible heart.

If you’re lucky enough to know her, you don’t need me to tell you any of this. You already know. Her eyes to heart valve is wide open. One look and you see exactly who she is. She’s your friend. She can talk with you. Whether you’re 5 or 50, she is fun to be around.

I love being with her. I love giving her rides to dance or church activities. Sometimes we chat. Sometimes we sing Taylor Swift songs. Sometimes she reads in silence and I just enjoy being next to her.

Today, my baby girl, my little buddy, my cuteness wonder, today… she turns 13. I feel like she’s already been a teenager for a while now, she is so grown up. But today it’s official.

I’m still that same terrified father. I have no idea what comes next or what to expect. But I do know Zoe. And that’s reassuring.

Because Zoe lives with her eyes and heart wide open.