Tired and happy after a couple of long but enchanted days, I looked at my wife and our new family member. He’s sleeping, and she appears to need that too. Now it was about thirty-five hours ago that I heard that precious baby cry, behind the green curtain. "I'll pop out and grab something to eat" I said. Apart from the bed to sleep in, us fathers get breakfast, but not lunch. BB [in Swedish short for mother & baby unit] – Bed and Breakfast, I thought to my self with a smile. I ran down and bought flowers and some sweets in the kiosk outside. A sloppy burger in the hospital's newly built cafeteria goes down as gourmet food, and I took the opportunity to call work and tell them about the miracle. "Did all go well?" a colleague asked. "Sure. The mother is okay under the circumstances and the baby is so cute. Ten fingers, ten toes," I chirp cheerfully.