It was just after 1am on a warm summer morning. My wife was told after 25 hours of labor she was going to need an emergency C-section. We were terrified as baby's heart rate kept dropping in and out of normal range all labor and he was struggling to move down the canal.
Nurse: Dad, this is the time to get your phone out and take babies first photo!
Me: She's not talking to me. I'm not a father. I'm not even sure what I am...
Nurse: This is it! Time to see if it's a boy or girl!
Me: Oh it's a boy we found out with the ultrasounds
Nurse: Are you sure? Those aren't always accurate. You never know! Nope, definitely a boy...
My son was born and I spent the first hour of his life alone as my wife had complications after the c section. We did skin to skin, him on my chest... Cue identity crisis.
Months of not grasping the concept of how I could be a father. Why did I feel more connected to the idea of being a mother. I googled "how to know I'm trans" and came across the Gender Dysphoria Bible that smashed my egg wide open at the tender age of 29