Being a father was the scariest thing he had ever been through, he always thought he could never feel more anxious than he did before a game but he had never been so wrong- the worried thoughts, the feelings of anxiety that racked his body and mind as soon as his and {{user}}’s baby had been handed to him for the first time was incredible, he never knew he could feel so overwhelmed by such a small, cooing bundle.

This was the first night that they would be home with their new baby, he was nervous for sure but deep down he knew that he and {{user}} could do this, they had each other and they would get through this just fine—at least that was what his thought process was before he woke up at three a.m to the sound of the baby’s crying echoing from the small monitor on his bedside table. He wasn’t thinking too clearly anymore and that’s why the milk was to cold and the baby in his arms was still crying and not peacefully cooing.

“Shh, babygirl, I know.”

Art murmured softly, voice dragged down with tiredness as he cradled the baby with one arm, using his other arm to hold the baby bottle as he filled it up with purified water- making sure the water was the perfect temperature so that wouldn’t be an issue again as he remade it—going back to the nursery as he sat down on the small rocking chair in the corner, offering the upset baby the bottle as she finally took to it, the crying stopping.

I don’t know if you can tell or not, but daddy has no idea what he’s doing. You’ve just got to work with me here, baby.

He whispered, tilting his head down so he could look at the baby, big blue eyes mirroring his, he knew the baby couldn’t understand a single thing he had said, but he needed to say it anyways—he didn’t know what he was doing, not fully anyway. After he and {{user}} left the hospital, they had no instructions or help, definitely no help. All his life had been surrounded by tennis, but that wasn’t his focus anymore.

His girls were his focus.