My phone rang at 3:55am last Saturday morning.

It was my girlfriend, Claudia. She was in the birthing ward of the local hospital.

What we had hoped would be the routine birth of our daughter, had become complicated. Our baby’s heart rate had dropped. Claudia was in a lot of pain ” physically and emotionally.

The doctor was called to the hospital. The midwife reversed the birthing contractions so that the doctor could perform a caesarean delivery.

I rushed to the hospital. It was dark and slightly eerie. The hospital corridors were empty with a handful of empty beds lined up against the wall. I was scared.

The midwife appeared out of nowhere and directed me to a waiting area while Claudia was being given a spinal injection. I was given scrubs to cover my body and told to drink some water. My anxiety heightened.

I was soon escorted into the operating theatre. It was full of doctors, nurses and other medical staff ready to get to work. The tension was unmistakeable. I was worried for the health of our baby, and for Claudia.

I remember being invited to sit somewhere in between the anaesthetists. Claudia reached out her hand. She was smiling through the anxiety, telling me stories about various people in the room. I could sense she was well cared for.

Separated by a screen, we couldn’t see what was happening below Claudia’s chest, other than the heads of the doctors. I attempted to sneak a peak through the reflective window on one side of the room. I could only make out shadows.

My mind was playing out various scenarios. I was terrified that the beautiful creature we had nurtured for the past nine months wouldn’t survive the traumatic transition into this world.

Those thoughts were immediately interrupted by the mid-wife, as she moved and gazed excitedly towards Claudia’s belly. At the same time Claudia let out a massive sigh.

A voice in the room could be heard saying “the head”. Moments later Claudia let out another sigh, telling me it felt like her lungs were being crushed.

Smiles began to break across the faces in the room. The tension lifted slightly. I still felt nervous.

It felt like an age before I heard the murmur of a baby. And then from behind the divide we were presented with a tiny, but perfect work of art.

I was immediately told to follow the midwife and the paediatrician to care for our baby and allow Claudia to receive treatment. We cleaned the baby, examined her, weighed and measured her, before I was asked to hold her ” skin against skin.

The entire world seemed to stop for a few moments. There were too many emotions to process: happiness, relief, worry, and pure joy.

After a few minutes I took our baby back to her momma so they could bond and feed. Everyone was healthy. I could begin to exhale.

Our beautiful daughter ” Maya Rose ” was born at 5:13am on 10/02/24. She was born on the lunar New Year, during the year of the dragon. She weighed 3265 grams, and measured 52cm. She is perfect in every way imaginable.

The past week has felt like an eternity but has also zipped by in a flash. Those of you who have brought your own children into the world will know, our life is completely different now.

On Thursday I brought Claudia and Maya home. We are slowly introducing Maya to her new home and showering her with love.

Keen observers will notice that this newsletter is arriving a day late. Priorities have changed, and sometimes routines need to be flexible.

Proud father aside, this is a newsletter designed for insight.

Two years ago Claudia and I had yet to meet. We were happy alone, but our hearts were open to love.

One year ago, Maya Rose was an idea. We spoke about creating a love child. Time was not on our side.

Life had a plan of its own. All the dreaming and scheming in the world couldn’t write such a script.

We have no idea what we are doing. Without question we will make countless mistakes introducing Maya into the world. The best parenting advice I was ever given is “you can’t get it right.“

Our lives have changed seemingly overnight. Looking into Maya’s eyes I feel blessed.

She arrived perfectly on time, and in her own way. Her eyes, nose, mouth, legs, arms, and every little detail is perfect. I didn’t need to do a thing.

Maya serves as a perfect reminder. Life doesn’t need to be forced or controlled. The best things in my life happen when I am fully present in each moment. I can create without conducting.

Today’s complex world can feel overwhelming. There are countless things to figure out, and a seemingly infinite list of expectations. It’s easy to talk yourself down, or panic that you’re not doing it right.

It might be your career, your relationship, how you look, or how you speak.

No matter what you do, you can’t get it right.

You can’t get it wrong either.

You get to do it your way: perfectly, and right on time.

Sending big love from a happy (and slightly exhausted) family.