I want nothing more than to be as involved and supportive as possible in Rouan’s life, but life doesn’t share the same desire.
I took three weeks off when Rou was born – two weeks paternity leave and a weeks annual leave added onto the end of it. I did this to preempt a situation in which Pebbles struggled to cope in case of a bad birth or if the first couple of weeks were particularly difficult. As it turned out, the birth went fairly well (as well as birth can go), and while the first two weeks were challenging, I don’t think they were as bad as they could’ve been. But I was still glad for the extra week off, because I knew that being as involved as possible from an early age would help Rou and I bond.
So after the third week I went back to work. I work full time, 5 days a week, and from around 8AM to 6PM I am out of the house. That’s a lot of time. Almost half a day. And I know this isn’t an issue restricted to just parents, it’s the same for most full time workers that arguably the best hours of the day are spent not doing what you want to do. But I’m not here to raise social issues and try to tackle them (sooner we get a 4 day work week the better, and that’s all I’ll say). I want to talk about why it’s difficult as a parent, as this is primarily a parenting blog after all.
We still sleep in shifts so I do spend a lot of time with Rou, but the majority of that time he is asleep. Granted, it’s cute, and I get lots of cuddles, but I feel like I miss out on those moments where he is awake and just taking the world in. Those small gaps during the day where he isn’t tired or hungry or agitated – the moments where he stares out of the window or explores the room, his eyes wide and curious – I don’t often get to experience that because it usually happens in the day.
I have had a few moments like that, and they’re heartwarming, seeing my son totally at peace of his own accord, taking in the world around him. And I’ll read to him or play with him hoping for a smile (he’s almost there) or a giggle (not so much there yet). But those moments are rare.
Pebbles gets more moments like that than I, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous, but I’m glad she gets them. She spends all day with him, and I can’t imagine how tiring that is. Sure, I go to work and it’s tough and draining and then I come home to a baby and it feels like you’ve left one job for another, but Pebbles has him all day every day. I’m pretty sure I’d go insane after a couple of days. I want to help her as much as possible, so as soon as I get in from work I take him off her and let her do whatever she needs to do that she couldn’t during the day. Whether it’s a shower or have a nap, I want to alleviate some of the workload for her. I just wish I could do it more often.
It’s that feeling of guilt again that always seems to nag away at me. During the pregnancy, Pebbles took the brunt, if not all, of the suffering and sacrifice, and even now that seems to be the case. I’m not saying she hates being a mum and wants a break, far from it, she loves it, but I do feel like Pebbles’ world has been flipped upside down while I’m encouraged to continue as before. And I wish I could do more to help.
Rou has good days and bad days and we always know before I set off for work what kind of day we’re in for. He’ll clusterfeed and cry or he’ll sleep and feed well, it’s rarely somewhere in the middle. And on those bad days, driving away from the house to go to work, knowing Pebbles is in for a bad day and I’m only back in 10 hours, I feel terrible.
But I do what I can. As soon as I get in I give him a cuddle, and hopefully he’s pretty calm and not clamoring for food meaning Pebbles can focus on herself a little bit. And he’s started being bottle-fed (still breastmilk) so I can take a night feed off her plate or just top him up during the day if Pebbles is in the shower or out or whatever.
I feel a lot more involved now I can feed him too. Being unable to calm Rou down, and then passing him to Pebbles and seeing him immediately chill is pretty soul-destroying, even though I know it’s no one’s fault, so knowing that I can feed him and give him what he wants has helped with my feelings of uselessness and guilt.
But I still want more time with him. I want to read to him every day. I want to go for walks and play with him. I want to devote every single second I have to him, even if it’s just letting him sleep on me when watching TV. But I know I can’t. Sometimes he wants mum and vice-versa, and sometimes I have to do other things. Life doesn’t exist solely to bring us together, and that’s a bit disappointing.
That feeling of uselessness and being unable to provide every solution got on top of me for a couple of days. I’d get frustrated easily and I’d be less proactive in my day. My thought process was along the lines of, “If I can’t provide the solution for him immediately, and I can’t even try in some cases, like when I’m at work, then clearly I’m fighting a losing battle and should just give up.” I’ve always known when to quit, which sounds incredibly defeatist, but it’s more like I cut my losses when I know there’s only more losses down the line, and put my energy into something I can control. But for a brief moment I cut my losses with Rou. I felt so helpless when he cried non-stop because he had tummy ache, for example. And nothing specifically dragged me out of that feeling, except time and self-forgiveness.
Maybe I had mild baby-blues. For a couple of days, maybe a week, everything’s been a blur. I didn’t feel like I was a good dad. But I cut myself some slack, and realised that Rou was still new to the world. He was, and still is, figuring things out, and had gone from a comfy, 5 star B&B for 9 months to a cold, harsh world that has Donald Trump as the leader of the free world – it’s a lot to take in.
Becoming a parent is really tough, especially mentally. Ignoring the tiredness, lack of time and general difficulty, it’s easy for baby blues to creep up on you. I think I’ll write more about that down the road, but for now I’ll just say that it does get better. As time has gone on, it’s become easier. I’m better at changing nappies. I know what positions he likes to be held in. I know his signals and cues and routines. What I’d say is, don’t beat yourself up if you’re finding things difficult, because it is difficult. As time goes on you become better at being a parent, but not without putting time and effort in.
If I were to put it down to any single moment or thought, I remember becoming suddenly aware that Rou wasn’t here for me, I was here for him. I no longer felt like his cries were aimed at me. His cries were because he himself was sad. They were aimed at the world if anything, and I could do something to help. And that’s when it began sinking in that I was a dad.
I do what I can to help him, and I do what I can to help Pebbles, but I don’t think that feeling of wanting to and believing I can do more will ever disappear. But I know I’m doing what I can, and I have to trust that that’s good enough for now.
For Dads Everywhere 