We Arrived but the Lights are Off
Impending fatherhood. What did it feel like? The best way I can put it into words is as follows:
It’s like walking through an art gallery with all of the lights off – you know there are great works of art surrounding you but you can’t fathom what they look like. How many are there? Are they paintings, sculptures, some underwhelming contemporary art? Are you even in the right room?
We found out we were pregnant two times. What? I think it’s relevant to mention the first time. My wife woke me at like 5am to tell me and although I was somewhat expecting it I was in shock. Nervous, scared, unsure. Suddenly my life was going to drastically change. Several weeks after we found out, that trepidation faded and I became genuinely excited. We even told our parents which was a big step for us. Suddenly the excitement was quenched at our first (follow-up) ultrasound learning that the pregnancy miscarried. It was an early miscarriage – apparently somewhere around 20% of pregnancies end this way – but nonetheless it was traumatic. If you are interested in learning more about this – you can read my wife’s blog post here –> Our First Pregnancy. But enough on that, it only is important context for the rest of the picture.
The second time we found out my wife was pregnant I skipped past the trepidation and started with excitement but this time with much more hesitation given the recent experience. We waited several weeks longer this time to announce to our parents, a stage where the risk of miscarriage was significantly less. But after the relief of a positive 12wk ultrasound I relaxed and allowed myself to get properly excited again.
Now, the rest of the pregnancy is in the books and I won’t go into much detail on that. During that time, however, I went on the proverbial journey of reframing my mindset to adjust to the idea that I will be a new father – well I already was. Given that I wasn’t going through a physical change at the same time, like my wife, it was very hard to conceptualize that there was a little human that I would be responsible for in a few months. Like any change in life, time allowed me to adjust to the idea of telling people my wife was pregnant and that I was going to be a father. But verbalizing something is easier to adjust to than accepting the meaning behind those words.
It doesn’t help that we didn’t know when exactly the baby would come – as is usually the case – so modify the art gallery metaphor to add not knowing when the lights will be turned on. Even weeks before, when our doctor told us that the baby was ‘officially’ full term and then later when my wife started having pre-labor contractions, the lights of the gallery were still off. I suppose I had expected that they would slowly brighten revealing what there was to see but instead the lights were turned on suddenly, at 39 weeks one week prior to due date.
Reaching for the Switch
About his birth … I thought I would cry when our son was born or when I first held him. I didn’t. After 50+ hours of labor and two nights of no sleep, a sudden burst of emotion was not really in the cards for me. I was really just relieved – we were through it. My wife was a superhero and the hospital staff had yet to say anything alarming about my son. Relieved, satisfied, ‘okay now what?‘. The lights are on.
… and there was light.
The next two weeks, which brings us to the time of me writing this, were a blur. Hours blended and days merged. Daylight came and went. My normal, continuous 8-9hrs of sleep went to 2-4hrs interrupted. Close family visited and people sent their congratulations.
Now that our son is here, what has changed? Fatherhood is not what I expected, simply because I couldn’t form an expectation. The first week was about learning and survival. Not survival in the anxiety-laden sense but out of necessity and profound new responsibility. Every waking moment was devoted to learning about baby and tending to his needs – a necessary process for two people with minimal experience with newborn babies or kids in general. Figuring out breastfeeding and swaddling, celebrating dirty diapers and a couple hours of sleep. Overall, the process left us blissfully ignorant of everything else happening in the world at the time.
The second week was more of the same. During the first week a productive day at home was marked by attending a doctor’s appointment and completing one load of dishes. Now, two loads of laundry brought to the point of ‘the chair’ (you know what I mean) and one load of dishes completed is feasible. I normally shower 6 days a week. I managed one in the first week and two, I believe, in the second. Breastfeeding has come an incredible way from day one. The learning curve is steep but we’re getting used to the climb.
I’ll leave you with this: Every sleep-deprived moment has been wonderful.
In the words of my superhero, blogger wife: Au Revoir
Sincerely, Zach
Looking for some reading material for when you become a father? Here is the book I’ve been reading!
