"You Gotta Tell Your Story Boy, Because It's Time To Go"
I was exchanging a few text messages with a good friend of mine the other week, as he and his wife are expecting their first child any day now. I asked him if he felt ready, and his response was "more or less". Coincidentally, it was the same answer he gave when I asked him if he was ready for the half marathon was planning to run this last weekend. I suggested that he should pace himself, both with the half marathon and impending transition to fatherhood, as long distance running and parenting tend to draw a lot of parallels.
After that brief message exchange, I realized, disappointingly, that was the first time I had really inquired with him about the life changing moment he would be experiencing in the next few weeks. A good friend, someone who I had traveled foreign countries with, someone I would trust my own kid's well being without hesitation. And me, someone who likes to think they are typically more attuned to the social-emotional state of affairs. Yet, despite knowing for seven months that he and his wife were expecting, I had neglected to ask him how he felt. And when I finally did, it was via a three bubble text message correspondence.
I felt like a pretty horrendous friend after that realization. What kind of friend finally gets around to check-in on someone a few weeks before his world is about to be completely altered (mostly for the good) to ask them how they are feeling. I have no doubt in my mind that my buddy and his wife, who I would also consider a very good friend, will be absolutely phenomenal parents. He's going to crush fatherhood, just like he crushed the half marathon he ran. But that certainly doesn't mean that he isn't feeling a whole range of emotions, including some that might be a little more unsettling. Talking through some of those feelings, however challenging that might be, can often provide a recognition that those feelings and emotions are normal for expectant parents. Especially when you can have those conversation with an expert parent like myself (please note the sarcasm).
In my view, there are two primary reasons, neither excusable, for the lack of support I felt I've provided to my friend. One is the obvious culprit of time, and lack there of. The other is the all too familiar gender stereotype that doesn't encourage guys to talk about their feelings, and often puts the father in a supporting role in the sci-fi, rom-com, comedic-horror, drama that is pregnancy and parenting.
We're all busy. When people ask me, "How we have been?", my response is typically, "Busy, although we never seem to do anything." When you have young kids, or older kids too I presume, it's easy to get into the minutia of the day to day - school, homework, activities, recommended daily hygiene, etc. It's hard to deviate from the path without anticipating some serious challenging parental opportunities^. Because of this, we have a tendency to get into our own little world, and lack the energy to have awareness of others and the things they might be going through. We ask, "How are things going?" as formalities, somewhat hoping the respondent doesn't dive into a five minute monologue about what has really been consuming their life since the last time we asked them that question. Ain't nobody got time for that, we're already running late to pick the kids up from school.
It's little surprise that a recent survey of Americans conducted by the large health insurance provider Cigna showed that nearly 54% of respondents would be considered lonely, with 40% indicating that they "lack companionship" and "meaningful relationships", and feel "isolated from others". The report also pointed out that feelings of loneliness are much more prevalent in the younger generations. This is quite the juxtaposition, given today's technological advances where we can be hyper-connected to so much and so many, but still lack that deep sense of connection to others. We can have 1,000 Facebook friends, but struggle to identify a non-familial person we'd feel comfortable putting down as an emergency contact on our child's school medical forms.
And if we don't feel like we have time to really get to know others and do the work to establish those meaningful relationships, then we guys, who would do pretty much anything besides discuss our feelings, are certainly not going to take the time. Naturally, men and women approach the entire aspect of pregnancy and child-rearing in typically different fashion. Lacking the ability to actually get pregnant, guys do not get to (have to) experience the physical changes that go along with expecting a child and ultimately doing the physical work to deliver that child*. But this is certainly not to say that an expectant father's emotions and feelings about the pregnancy and his transition into fatherhood doesn't deserve airing as well.
Throughout the pregnancy and delivery of the baby, the vast majority of attention is focused to the mother, and rightfully so, as she is doing the brunt of the heavy lifting. But this also tends to color our perspective of those events as women-centered, and can often leave an expectant father wonder where his place is or should be. Expectant mothers get thrown baby showers and get to go shopping for a whole new wardrobe - yes, I get that pregnant women probably wish they didn't have to wear maternity clothes. They get to "nest" and have late-night cravings for ice cream - again, I get that those cravings come at the expense of morning sickness and overall uncomfortableness and exhaustion. Expectant dads, if they're lucky, have friends that will take him out for one last night on the town before baby comes. Something we tried and failed to do with our friend because we were all too busy.
I don't want it to seem like I'm bitter for not being thrown my own baby shower - I actually got a tool belt full of baby related products as a gift from my old coworkers - or getting to wear jeans with an elastic waistband. I'm just saying that our view of what pregnancy and childbirth, and subsequently most child rearing activities entail are seen through the mother's lens, and I think this can make it harder for dads to feel connected to the process. Even the child birth class we took before our first focused primarily on the comfort of the mother during labor and delivery (again, rightfully so). When the expectant fathers were consulted on what they hoped for throughout the process, most everyone indicated, wisely, for their wives/partners/baby mommas to be comfortable. Having never experienced a pregnancy first hand and lacking the ability to physically carry offspring inside my body for nine months and personally push that offspring out of an undersized opening, I felt my job was to defer to whatever my wife felt was the best course of action. "Get her any/all of the drugs she wants, Doc! Here's my Amex, just keep the tab open."
Even past the pregnancy, labor and delivery, and into the stages when a father can be more actively involved in the child rearing (minus the breast feeding of course), we still have a tendency to view our marker as a parent through the standard set by the mom. I feel like I get referred to as a slightly-above average-dad (in the aggregate) because I did/do a number of things that are commonly associated with the mother. I happily changed diapers, gave bottles, took the kids out in public, and continue to do a vast majority of things that women tend to do around the house, whether they are working or not. Don't get me wrong, there are certainly some terrible moms out there. And of course households without a motherly presence; whether tragically or intentionally. But on the whole, and is true in our house, the societal parental standard is set by the mom, and for good reason.
But maybe this is part of the reason it can be challenging to get fathers to engage in parenthood, because we are expecting them to act more like moms. That can be challenging to do when a father's experience through the pregnancy is very different. We might lack some of that connective feeling to our kids because we didn't carry them for nine months. We might not appreciate the challenge of parenting through frustrating times because we didn't experience the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion of labor and delivery. We can do our best to try and understand what it was like, but we only know what we know. And when we live in a society that questions if all moms are #momenough, how can we expect dads to even compete.
A few nights ago, my wife and I were discussing how fortunate we are to both be home on most nights and able to put our kids to bed. If you have multiple kids, you're probably aware that the divide and conquer strategy is typically the optimal approach. But I think it is important, and at times refreshing, to parent solo. While you are forced to deal with every kid crisis yourself, it also helps you to develop your unique style of parenting, without necessarily having to worry about what your co-parent might be thinking. Don't get me wrong, single parenting has to be infinitely more challenging, but those moments when it's just you and no Super Mom to swoop in and save the day can lead to some profound resourcefulness.
Shortly after our oldest turned one, my wife took a girls long weekend to Chicago with some of her friends. I'm sure she was apprehensive to leave her baby, and worried about how I would fare, but it was a necessary rite of passage for me. In my own baby book, I remember finding a piece of paper where my Dad had documented a play-by-play synopsis of a day he spent with just my sister and me when we were little, and my Mom was enjoying some much needed time away from her motherly duties. Having those occasional times as an only parent has helped boost my confidence in my parental abilities, and it is something I would suggest that new fathers do once it is logistically feasible. We certainly all make mistakes as parents, and sometimes you learn better from recognizing your own mistakes, as opposed to being informed of your mistakes by someone else. It's also nice to not feel guilty about leaving the dishes piled in the sink after dinner for a few days.
As important as having those opportunities to test your parenting mettle while flying solo, I don't think anything is as vital in helping you improve your parenting game as just having that time with your kids, especially when they are brand new. I've commented before on the generous parental leave policy that my previous employer had. Like dealing with a hangover and running long distances, kids just take time. A lot of it. And the more interrupted time you can spend with them, especially during the first days/weeks/months of their life, the more comfortable you'll become with your parental abilities, and hopefully the more likely you'll want to use those abilities in the future. This time won't ease all of your concerns, and it might just create new ones for you to worry about: Am I reading the appropriate books? Is this the most ergonomically correct baby carrier to use? Can newborns comprehend swear words at 4 months? I heard their mind is like a sponge.
There isn't much of a training plan for parenthood, like there might be for a half marathon. Unless I suppose if you work in a daycare or have a large family with significantly younger siblings. They always say it's different when they're your own. And It is. It's easier and it's harder at the same time, and for very different reasons. You can certainly practice with other people's kids, and we will gladly offer up ours at a discounted price. But regardless, being an expectant parent, especially for the first time, will bring on a whole host of emotions and feelings, both for the expectant mom and the expectant dad. While we are reassuring expectant mothers that those feelings are completely normal, and sometimes just hormonal, we should also remember that those expectant fathers might also be feeling similar emotions, and much less likely to wear them on their sleeves.
This is not to downplay the often insurmountable task that is motherhood, or advocate that us Dads of the World should unite to protest this weekend's next Hallmark Holiday. Moms deserve all the kudos they get, and much, much more. The Dad-joke that everyday should be Mother's Day is by all means true. But as Dads, our experience as parents is going to be different than that of a mother's. We have our own dreams, hopes, and fears when it comes to having and raising our kids. We might not want to talk about them, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth getting us to try. There is a good chance that if you get us to tell our story, we'll better know the reason why.
The below photo progression illustrates the increase of comfort in holding a newborn with each subsequent child. This corresponds directly with a decrease in head hair coverage.
^Commonly referred to as meltdowns
*I've commented before that the book The Sh!t No One Tells You was a good read to help me better understand the toll pregnancy and delivery took on my wife. Still, reading and experiencing firsthand are obviously two very different things.
After that brief message exchange, I realized, disappointingly, that was the first time I had really inquired with him about the life changing moment he would be experiencing in the next few weeks. A good friend, someone who I had traveled foreign countries with, someone I would trust my own kid's well being without hesitation. And me, someone who likes to think they are typically more attuned to the social-emotional state of affairs. Yet, despite knowing for seven months that he and his wife were expecting, I had neglected to ask him how he felt. And when I finally did, it was via a three bubble text message correspondence.
I felt like a pretty horrendous friend after that realization. What kind of friend finally gets around to check-in on someone a few weeks before his world is about to be completely altered (mostly for the good) to ask them how they are feeling. I have no doubt in my mind that my buddy and his wife, who I would also consider a very good friend, will be absolutely phenomenal parents. He's going to crush fatherhood, just like he crushed the half marathon he ran. But that certainly doesn't mean that he isn't feeling a whole range of emotions, including some that might be a little more unsettling. Talking through some of those feelings, however challenging that might be, can often provide a recognition that those feelings and emotions are normal for expectant parents. Especially when you can have those conversation with an expert parent like myself (please note the sarcasm).
In my view, there are two primary reasons, neither excusable, for the lack of support I felt I've provided to my friend. One is the obvious culprit of time, and lack there of. The other is the all too familiar gender stereotype that doesn't encourage guys to talk about their feelings, and often puts the father in a supporting role in the sci-fi, rom-com, comedic-horror, drama that is pregnancy and parenting.
We're all busy. When people ask me, "How we have been?", my response is typically, "Busy, although we never seem to do anything." When you have young kids, or older kids too I presume, it's easy to get into the minutia of the day to day - school, homework, activities, recommended daily hygiene, etc. It's hard to deviate from the path without anticipating some serious challenging parental opportunities^. Because of this, we have a tendency to get into our own little world, and lack the energy to have awareness of others and the things they might be going through. We ask, "How are things going?" as formalities, somewhat hoping the respondent doesn't dive into a five minute monologue about what has really been consuming their life since the last time we asked them that question. Ain't nobody got time for that, we're already running late to pick the kids up from school.
It's little surprise that a recent survey of Americans conducted by the large health insurance provider Cigna showed that nearly 54% of respondents would be considered lonely, with 40% indicating that they "lack companionship" and "meaningful relationships", and feel "isolated from others". The report also pointed out that feelings of loneliness are much more prevalent in the younger generations. This is quite the juxtaposition, given today's technological advances where we can be hyper-connected to so much and so many, but still lack that deep sense of connection to others. We can have 1,000 Facebook friends, but struggle to identify a non-familial person we'd feel comfortable putting down as an emergency contact on our child's school medical forms.
And if we don't feel like we have time to really get to know others and do the work to establish those meaningful relationships, then we guys, who would do pretty much anything besides discuss our feelings, are certainly not going to take the time. Naturally, men and women approach the entire aspect of pregnancy and child-rearing in typically different fashion. Lacking the ability to actually get pregnant, guys do not get to (have to) experience the physical changes that go along with expecting a child and ultimately doing the physical work to deliver that child*. But this is certainly not to say that an expectant father's emotions and feelings about the pregnancy and his transition into fatherhood doesn't deserve airing as well.
Throughout the pregnancy and delivery of the baby, the vast majority of attention is focused to the mother, and rightfully so, as she is doing the brunt of the heavy lifting. But this also tends to color our perspective of those events as women-centered, and can often leave an expectant father wonder where his place is or should be. Expectant mothers get thrown baby showers and get to go shopping for a whole new wardrobe - yes, I get that pregnant women probably wish they didn't have to wear maternity clothes. They get to "nest" and have late-night cravings for ice cream - again, I get that those cravings come at the expense of morning sickness and overall uncomfortableness and exhaustion. Expectant dads, if they're lucky, have friends that will take him out for one last night on the town before baby comes. Something we tried and failed to do with our friend because we were all too busy.
I don't want it to seem like I'm bitter for not being thrown my own baby shower - I actually got a tool belt full of baby related products as a gift from my old coworkers - or getting to wear jeans with an elastic waistband. I'm just saying that our view of what pregnancy and childbirth, and subsequently most child rearing activities entail are seen through the mother's lens, and I think this can make it harder for dads to feel connected to the process. Even the child birth class we took before our first focused primarily on the comfort of the mother during labor and delivery (again, rightfully so). When the expectant fathers were consulted on what they hoped for throughout the process, most everyone indicated, wisely, for their wives/partners/baby mommas to be comfortable. Having never experienced a pregnancy first hand and lacking the ability to physically carry offspring inside my body for nine months and personally push that offspring out of an undersized opening, I felt my job was to defer to whatever my wife felt was the best course of action. "Get her any/all of the drugs she wants, Doc! Here's my Amex, just keep the tab open."
Even past the pregnancy, labor and delivery, and into the stages when a father can be more actively involved in the child rearing (minus the breast feeding of course), we still have a tendency to view our marker as a parent through the standard set by the mom. I feel like I get referred to as a slightly-above average-dad (in the aggregate) because I did/do a number of things that are commonly associated with the mother. I happily changed diapers, gave bottles, took the kids out in public, and continue to do a vast majority of things that women tend to do around the house, whether they are working or not. Don't get me wrong, there are certainly some terrible moms out there. And of course households without a motherly presence; whether tragically or intentionally. But on the whole, and is true in our house, the societal parental standard is set by the mom, and for good reason.
But maybe this is part of the reason it can be challenging to get fathers to engage in parenthood, because we are expecting them to act more like moms. That can be challenging to do when a father's experience through the pregnancy is very different. We might lack some of that connective feeling to our kids because we didn't carry them for nine months. We might not appreciate the challenge of parenting through frustrating times because we didn't experience the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion of labor and delivery. We can do our best to try and understand what it was like, but we only know what we know. And when we live in a society that questions if all moms are #momenough, how can we expect dads to even compete.
A few nights ago, my wife and I were discussing how fortunate we are to both be home on most nights and able to put our kids to bed. If you have multiple kids, you're probably aware that the divide and conquer strategy is typically the optimal approach. But I think it is important, and at times refreshing, to parent solo. While you are forced to deal with every kid crisis yourself, it also helps you to develop your unique style of parenting, without necessarily having to worry about what your co-parent might be thinking. Don't get me wrong, single parenting has to be infinitely more challenging, but those moments when it's just you and no Super Mom to swoop in and save the day can lead to some profound resourcefulness.
Shortly after our oldest turned one, my wife took a girls long weekend to Chicago with some of her friends. I'm sure she was apprehensive to leave her baby, and worried about how I would fare, but it was a necessary rite of passage for me. In my own baby book, I remember finding a piece of paper where my Dad had documented a play-by-play synopsis of a day he spent with just my sister and me when we were little, and my Mom was enjoying some much needed time away from her motherly duties. Having those occasional times as an only parent has helped boost my confidence in my parental abilities, and it is something I would suggest that new fathers do once it is logistically feasible. We certainly all make mistakes as parents, and sometimes you learn better from recognizing your own mistakes, as opposed to being informed of your mistakes by someone else. It's also nice to not feel guilty about leaving the dishes piled in the sink after dinner for a few days.
As important as having those opportunities to test your parenting mettle while flying solo, I don't think anything is as vital in helping you improve your parenting game as just having that time with your kids, especially when they are brand new. I've commented before on the generous parental leave policy that my previous employer had. Like dealing with a hangover and running long distances, kids just take time. A lot of it. And the more interrupted time you can spend with them, especially during the first days/weeks/months of their life, the more comfortable you'll become with your parental abilities, and hopefully the more likely you'll want to use those abilities in the future. This time won't ease all of your concerns, and it might just create new ones for you to worry about: Am I reading the appropriate books? Is this the most ergonomically correct baby carrier to use? Can newborns comprehend swear words at 4 months? I heard their mind is like a sponge.
There isn't much of a training plan for parenthood, like there might be for a half marathon. Unless I suppose if you work in a daycare or have a large family with significantly younger siblings. They always say it's different when they're your own. And It is. It's easier and it's harder at the same time, and for very different reasons. You can certainly practice with other people's kids, and we will gladly offer up ours at a discounted price. But regardless, being an expectant parent, especially for the first time, will bring on a whole host of emotions and feelings, both for the expectant mom and the expectant dad. While we are reassuring expectant mothers that those feelings are completely normal, and sometimes just hormonal, we should also remember that those expectant fathers might also be feeling similar emotions, and much less likely to wear them on their sleeves.
This is not to downplay the often insurmountable task that is motherhood, or advocate that us Dads of the World should unite to protest this weekend's next Hallmark Holiday. Moms deserve all the kudos they get, and much, much more. The Dad-joke that everyday should be Mother's Day is by all means true. But as Dads, our experience as parents is going to be different than that of a mother's. We have our own dreams, hopes, and fears when it comes to having and raising our kids. We might not want to talk about them, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth getting us to try. There is a good chance that if you get us to tell our story, we'll better know the reason why.
The below photo progression illustrates the increase of comfort in holding a newborn with each subsequent child. This corresponds directly with a decrease in head hair coverage.
 |
| Child #1: Pretty Awkward Newborn Holding |
 |
| Child #2: Slightly Less Awkward Newborn Holding |
 |
| Child #3: Seamlessly managing my fantasy football roster while holding newborn |
 |
| My buddy Ben got his awkward newborn holding photo out of the way with our first. |
^Commonly referred to as meltdowns
*I've commented before that the book The Sh!t No One Tells You was a good read to help me better understand the toll pregnancy and delivery took on my wife. Still, reading and experiencing firsthand are obviously two very different things.
