And I watched him, my heart full, waiting for the moment every expectant father waits for, the moment he first truly sees his child.

He leaned down over the bassinet.

He looked into our daughter’s tiny sleeping face.

And I waited for his joy to overflow.

I had imagined this moment for nine months, had pictured Luca’s face crumpling with love, had anticipated the tears, the wonder, the way he would look up at me and we would share, wordlessly, the enormity of what we had made.

That is what was supposed to happen.