When I want to smile, I think of that moment. The first moment I entered the NICU and I saw him, exactly as I knew he would be, but in a way I had never seen him before. He embodied the phrase “bursting with pride”. He was smiling and bouncing around, excited to see me, but more exited to show off his son.

To know Leo is to know who he is, I mentioned this before. And I had known for a long time that this man would be an exceptional father. I just couldn’t believe how instantly he assumed the role, and effortlessly in such a trying situation. He hadn’t slept in nearly 36 hours; he had been by himself all day fighting for his baby. He was in a NICU, watching his dreams rise up and down with the rhythm of a ventilator, and he was the most brilliant I had ever seen him. It was inspiring, gut-wrenching and completely heartbreaking. He’d had a terrible day and was staying positive for his son, it was amazing and eventually the façade cracked – he’s human folks and he let it show later. But he never lost the daddy glow, it was a beautiful thing to watch and it sustains me on the days when I wonder if we will get to raise a child.

Over the coming days he continued to astound me, but I was never surprised. He sang to his son, pushed the medical team, encouraged his wife and never, ever gave up hope. He fought and remained positive in a situation where negativity reigned supreme.

I mourn for me, often and easily, but by far the images that crush my spirit and break my heart the most are those of fathers and sons. I wanted this so badly for this man, to get to be a father, to raise his son, playing games and teaching values. He did it, for nearly five days he did it beyond my wildest expectations and then it was ripped from him and I don’t know what to do with that except treasure those moments.

I wish you could have seen him; the sight of him is something everyone should get to see in their life. So perfectly fulfilled and so stunningly proud - my husband, my soul mate, my son’s remarkable father. Daddy.