β¨π€ Seven Hours After Birth β A Father Is Born π€β¨

π Seven hours after bringing new life into the world, my body was exhausted, but my heart was quietly glowing π.
Then Martin leaned close and softly said, βCan you move for just a moment? I have an idea.β
πΆ Moments later, I saw him there β beside our baby β both wrapped in gentle blankets, two warm cocoons sharing the same breath π§£π€.
No rush. No words. Just stillness.
π I watched from a short distance, wiping away silent tears, realizing this had nothing to do with perfect photos or first measurements.
This was something deeper.

π This was the exact moment a father was born β in tenderness, in shy humor, in hands that held our tiny miracle as if the whole world rested there.
πβοΈ People would later ask about height and weight, numbers and detailsβ¦
but this is what I want to remember instead:
a grown man cradling our new life with infinite care and unspoken devotion π.
πΈ I took a photo, breathed it in, and whispered to myself,
β¨ βRemember this warmth. Remember this love.β β¨