Parenting Insights
I aspire to be an exceptional father—the kind of dad portrayed in television shows, who is carefree, enjoyable, and a stellar role model for his impressionable children. However, at this moment, I cannot confidently claim that title. If I were to be completely honest, I would rate myself as a mediocre dad—perhaps a 5 out of 10. My partner would disagree, insisting that I am a great father and that our son is fortunate to have me. But let’s face it, kind-hearted individuals often bend the truth a bit. My main concern is that I am still figuring things out.
Before entering the realm of parenthood, I was quite content. That might sound harsh, but please don’t misinterpret it. I find joy in my current life as well, although it’s a different kind of happiness. Back in those carefree days, I could do whatever I wanted. I was quite skilled at being self-centered, and to some extent, I still am. I recall lounging in bed, taking my extended sleep for granted, firmly believing my life would remain unchanged forever. In those days, if someone invited me out, I could just say yes without a second thought. I could stay out late if I chose to, indulge in drinks, and live uninhibitedly. While I never acted on those impulses back then, I feel an overwhelming desire to do so now.
I’ve come to realize that parenting is a uniquely challenging journey that cannot be fully captured in any parenting guidebook. I remember reading What to Expect When You’re Expecting during a work trip to Melbourne. I devoured it in three days, leaving with an inflated sense of confidence that I would excel as a father.
However, things began to unravel during labor. My partner was working hard to bring our little one into the world, and the supportive midwife insisted on involving me more than I felt comfortable with. Witnessing a birth is a miraculous yet chaotic experience that I would not wish upon anyone. It was nothing like the sanitized versions depicted on screen; babies are handed over covered in all sorts of substances, which is a far cry from what I had anticipated.
After a couple of days surrounded by medical professionals, we were suddenly expected to take this new life home and care for it. My partner quickly became an expert in all things baby-related, which was, to be honest, a bit exasperating. I struggled from the get-go. I fumbled through clothing, was inundated with diaper disasters, shed tears in solitude, wandered around in a sleep-deprived daze, and never quite mastered the art of swaddling. Remember that episode in Friends where Ross and Rachel’s life with their newborn seemed perfect and stress-free? That is the polar opposite of reality.
When our son finally slept through the night for the first time, I celebrated like it was a holiday. After nine months of restless nights, the unexpected gift of eight hours of sleep was bliss. Yet, instead of resting, I found myself lying awake, consumed with worry that something terrible had happened. What if I checked on him and discovered the worst? It felt easier to just lie there, anxious and awake. I had become proficient in sleeplessness.
Beyond the fear of the unknown, my self-doubt in my parenting abilities stems from my struggles to transition into fatherhood as seamlessly as I hoped. Despite my best efforts, I often find myself making missteps, lingering in the fear that I may negatively impact my son’s future. The truth is, relinquishing aspects of my old life—those freedoms that allowed me to live solely for myself—is a daunting challenge. Suddenly, my existence revolves around someone else, entirely dependent on me. For someone who has been self-focused, this shift can feel frustrating. Although I know parenthood is meant to be fulfilling, and it is at times, there are moments when I long to return to my previous life.
Compounding the challenge is the lack of support for fathers. I often imagine a group of new dads strolling through the park, sharing insights and experiences of raising children. Yet, such scenes remain confined to the silver screen. In reality, the emphasis on childcare often falls primarily on mothers. Even though my partner and I strive for a modern approach to parenting, we have unintentionally settled into traditional roles, with her spending the majority of time with our son.
I genuinely want to spend more time with my son, but I know I would also struggle with it. He causes me considerable anxiety. His very existence prompts me to embrace adulthood and take responsibility. Yet, in those precious moments when he smiles at me, asks if I’m okay, or, on rare occasions, wraps his little arms around my leg to say “I love you,” I feel utterly overwhelmed. At that moment, I melt. I experience all the emotions I am meant to feel, and I finally grasp the beauty of fatherhood. Suddenly, I no longer care about those sleep-ins or the fact that a significant portion of my paycheck vanishes before I can even acknowledge it. Instead, I find joy in watching children’s shows, dancing around the living room like a fool, knowing that the radiant smile on his face is all for me.
In summary, the journey of parenthood is filled with challenges, self-doubt, and unexpected joys. As a father, I am continually learning and growing, navigating the complexities of raising a child while trying to balance my previous life with the demands of fatherhood.
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