The walls were pink and the ceiling lavender. The crib, more expensive than my first car, had been assembled with the greatest care that a hopeless handyman like me could muster. It is wrong for something that can be built with allen wrenches to cost so much. But was it all good enough? It was going to be her bedroom, and I was concerned that it wouldn't be good enough. Were the walls pink enough? Did the ceiling need to be lavender-er? Would she make it through the night in that crib? Could my allen-wrenching be trusted?

The insecurity I felt about my workmanship would not change the fact that she would be coming home. Soon. She wasn't even born yet, and she was already going to give me a heart attack – was I ready for a lifetime of this? Is any dad?

When Corinne finally did arrive, they actually let us take her home. (Didn't they know that I had no idea what I was doing?) I strapped her into the rear-facing seat, which was almost as expensive as the crib-that-cost-more-than-my-first-car. For that kind of money, it should have installed itself, but I ended up having it professionally installed because I couldn't figure out the two straps and single buckle. (Many police stations offer this service if you find yourself throwing the seat from the car in frustration, all while screaming obscenities in front of the neighbors. What? Like that didn't happen when you tried to put it in.) I can tell you the time we left the hospital, the weather on that day, the fact that I drove 15 mph the whole way home, insisting that my wife spend the entire trip twisted around so that she could look at Corinne to make sure that she was OK.

As we pulled up to the driveway, I saw something in my front yard that gave me pause. I felt a rush of love, joy and guilt as I saw giant wooden cut-outs of Piglet and Pooh holding a banner announcing the date of Corinne's arrival. Handmade and painted by her godparents 500 miles south of our home, they had driven up to meet her and give her an official welcome. What had I done in that department? I'm not talking about the building, painting and installing – that's what a dad is supposed to do. But had I done enough to make it seem like a celebration of her entrance into our lives and home?

As anxious as that first trip home can be, there are a lot of things that dads can, and should, do to help welcome his new family home.

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