It was 40 years ago that a baby was placed in my hands. This was the child we had been waiting for 9 months, watching the bump grow and grow, eventually with me being woken in the night by tiny kicks in the back. Incredibly, my wife was not awakened by the kicks inside.

I am not identifying my eldest daughter at this point, if she asks for identification I will edit it in later. Possibly with pictures.

Come the day, my daughter was born by c-section, my wife was being sewn up or whatever they do in operating theaters so I got first cuddles. I still count this as a great privilege. But after all this time of waiting and longing, where was the love? A nurse came and put a perfect stranger in my arms. On an intellectual level, I knew it was my daughter, but I was emotionally detached. Where was the love?

Lesson in life number 1: Love takes time to develop.

The love came soon after. Really soon. I was soon in doting father mode. As soon as the traumatic experience of seeing my wife’s labour, which did not go well and her after hours of pain and no action, our daughter’s heartbeat showed signs of trauma: she had to be delivered by emergency Caesarian section. I was worried I might lose both my wife and child. My wife was ill after the ordeal, and the hospital stay was longer than expected.

The specific relevant content for this request, if necessary, delimited with characters: Other things happened which were difficult at the time: One time I stayed up in hospital when my daughter was being tested for suspected meningitis. The later part of the night, my wife took over so that I could sleep before work the next day, which wasn’t a good day at work due to the worry. Thankfully, the diagnosis was negative.

Another thing was when she told us she was being bullied by other girls at school. I told her she must report it to the school, which she did to stop me going to the school and reporting it. The bullying stopped. Bullying will always continue if you do nothing as the bully knows they can get away with it, a lesson I learned from being bullied myself.

Lesson in life number 2: Love increases during trauma

I have taken about the bad times so far. But there was a lot more good than bad. Take the teenage years, the hardest time for a parent, but also the most rewarding. In that short time, a child becomes an adult. At 13, they are very much a child; by 18, they are an adult. A very short time. It is a privilege to have a hand in watching that happen.

There have been wonderful moments from the beginning. From seeing recognition in her eyes for the first time to her walking independently, which happened on holiday on the Isle of Man. The joyful way that children play, seen through the eyes of a parent, is something wonderful, as are those moments of deep concentration which a child has. I wish I had never lost that deep joy on becoming an adult. But then I tried too hard to be what I thought people expected me to be. I never achieved it. I’d have been better off embracing my inner geek.

My daughter left for university at 18. But when we meet I can see that her inherited geekiness has not been subdued, but has been developed. It is fully part of who she is. I love her for it. She is absolutely brilliant and I am a proud dad.

Happy Birthday.