It was one of those soft, calm mornings when the weather surprises with its freshness and warmth, and an insidious alarm clock does not ruin sleep.

Although, with the start of motherhood, you forgot about what alarm clocks are. Because in the usual way, you no longer had to put it on. Instead, you were often woken up by the soft baby crying of your little girl, who started tossing and turning in her crib at the other end of the bedroom, demanding food.

You still remembered how Kyle's eyes lit up when he saw a positive pregnancy test. A towel was draped over his shoulder because he was busy cooking steaks in the kitchen. But then... then his face was distorted by a bright, sincere and the happiest smile.

"Ya've made me the happiest, darling."

Ana was born with a cry of satisfaction, and you and your husband cried with happiness at the same time. Your daughter, your little happiness, the reflection of the two of you. Could there have been greater happiness?

"Oh, look at ya yawn. Want some more sleep, huh?"

You turned over your shoulder at the sound of Kyle's voice coming from the other side of your bed. And there, by the window, with the curtains open, he was standing, shirtless and still in his pajama pants, holding your three-month-old daughter in his arms.

He held her confidently, just like the nurse had taught him, holding her gently behind her back and under her diaper. Confident, strong male hands holding his most precious treasure. Your child.

Well, what do they say? If you think you can't love him more, watch him become a father.