So you've just been given a white stick with a blue plus sign on it...wait for it...it'll sink in in a second...and...CONGRATULATIONS DADDY!
Nine months from now, you will be handed your very own bundle of insomnia. A wonderful beautiful living breathing poop machine in a baby costume. Don't worry, you're now part of a long-standing tradition of frustrated chaps who took an hour to install the ruddy car seat base. Speaking of car seats, you will have to mortgage your home to afford the newest Chicco (pronounced kee-koh).
Please rest assured that there is hope, and Fatherhood is an amazing adventure that will teach you more about yourself than any weekend retreat or therapy session ever could (and at 10 times the price!). I only wish that someone would have told me these few things before Hurricane insert your baby's name here made landfall.
Shore up your marriage/relationship. What you're about to go through is eerily similar to Seal training. There'll be midnight construction projects, runs to the grocery, runs to the pharmacy, emergency feedings, pump malfunctions and enough diapers to effectively drown in. You will get little to no sleep, you will get even less sex. So, if there are issues in your relaysh, fix 'em. Grumpy humans with a grudge aren't any fun to be around.
Unsqueemish yourself. If you have an aversion to puke, poop, drool, pee, breast milk, blood, pus or ointment...get over it.
Buy batteries. Almost anything that your little one plays with uses some type of battery. Even the wood puzzles from when we were kids have batteries now and are photosensitive (Thanks Melissa and Doug) and make noise of some kind. You can never have too many AAs.
Learn to change a diaper. She'll thank you for it.
Learn to burp a baby. This one might should be number one. You will learn soon that gas is the enemy and must be vanquished at all costs. Even if that one good belch brings up a third of what they just ate all over your shirt, it's worth it.
Wait for it, she'll come around. You've always thought she's smokin hot, and something as trivial as ballooning to thrice normal girth, then squeezing a tiny human out of a very small opening hasn't changed the way you see her. But it's certainly changed the way she sees herself. There are new stretch marks, things sag a touch more, and she's somebody's mommy! The rules stipulate at least a 6 week dry-spell, but don't pressure. A mommy she may be, but remind her gently now and again that she still puts the sparkle in your eye!
Have fun! Fatherhood is the best! You have in your arms a miracle that'll eventually call you Daddy and that is the greatest feeling on earth.
So don't fret, you'll do fine. use common sense and remember to laugh! The journey is long, but worth every second.