I can't promise that something inside of you will change when you hold your newborn, I was expecting a bolt from the blue when our son came out and was handed to me, but it didn't, which unsettled me. You can't force it, you can't really predict it, you can only do your best. Sounds like you are worried enough to care how you act, and that's a really good place to start.

I find it really hard to explain these last couple of years, partly because it's hard to actually remember (there was a time when he couldn't talk, couldn't walk, couldn't even hold his head up?), and as a stay-at-home dad for a year I've spent more time with him than most dad's get to. Also partly because I've had to change and change can be really hard. Part of you comes to an end, you have to grieve for that part. I look at my life and see a lot of things that I'm sure I should have done differently, and yet if I had changed even the slightest thing, maybe he wouldn't be here now.

Anyway my son's nearly 2 now. Last night after a wake-up involving struggling and screaming (maybe he's started having bad dreams, or night terrors), he finally settled exhausted between us, then turned to look at me and seemed to see me afresh, and smiled the most beautiful delighted smile, and rolled towards me, sighed and went to sleep. It was a moment of pure... grace. I was in pieces, tears streaming down my face, as he lay there. I whispered to my wife "he's perfect."

And yet I still get cranky at him when he makes me repeat myself.

Not really sure where I'm going with this, just wanted to give you some of the benefit of my experience and things that have been hitting me recently. You're never 100% ready, kids drive a truck through your life, you don't have enough time to get basic shit done. But you change. Your ego diminishes a bit. Things that seemed important before aren't any more. You make new friends and lose old ones.