You're 29 when you become a father, 29 when your daughter is brought into this world.
You're antsy, anxious, and exhausted. The hospital room is undeniably stuffy, and the complicated affair that is childbirth has left an unruly mess in its wake. But despite all this, you feel an overwhelming peace and overwhelming contentedness. You don't think you've ever felt more pride—more love—than you do right now as you look at the two beings in front of you.
Your beautiful wife Lizzy (the exuberant real estate agent whose house viewing you decided to wander into on a whim five years prior) smiles meekly at you and offers up the small bundle.
Carefully, ever so carefully, you accept Lizzy's offering and lift the bundle to peer down at your daughter.
You peer down at Jennifer.
When deciding on names, there had been no qualms; Lizzy both understood and loved the idea immediately. And now, looking down at her namesake, you can't help but think of your mother. You briefly entertain the sad thought that she won't ever be here physically to meet her granddaughter, but moreso, you think of how she's ever-present in spirit—in the form of your guardian angel, your father's will to carry on, Spence's drive, Aunt Pen's affection—and you know without a shadow of a doubt that little Jennifer will be touched someway, somehow, by her grandmother.
You glance back up at Lizzy and see your proud grin and tears of joy mirrored in her own face, before returning your attention to the bundle of joy in your arms.
Your daughter. You can't imagine anything more perfect.
You're so mind-blown at such a prospect that you don't quite know how to react. And so, you do what your gut tells you to do; you do what feels natural... instinctual, even.
You kiss her lightly on her tiny nose (on her sparkly little nose) and you tell her, "No matter where you go, no matter where you are, no matter how big you grow and even if you stray far…"
She grabs your index finger in her fist, and your voice cracks just the tiniest bit—out of sheer joy, out of the enormity of your next words—and it is then that you finally and truly understand the magnitude of JJ's love for you: the magnitude of a parent's love for their child.
"… I'll love you forever, 'cause you'll always be my baby star."
A/N: aaaaaand that's all she wrote. Hopefully that serves as some nice closure for everyone. Thanks for anyone who has taken the time to review this—I greatly enjoy your feedback, and truly appreciate your kind words. Hope you've enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it : )