It's 6am and I'm spoon feeding a 4-day-old baby. He's red from crying. I can't stop wondering how did this happen? It's surreal and awkward. I have no idea what I’m doing and that is exactly how it is supposed to be.
I can't stop thinking who is this little guy? What will he be when he grows up? Who will he love and who will break his heart? I wish my dad could have seen him. I wish my dad was more of a dad to me. And I wonder if I’ll ever be as good of a dad as I can be?
