My Life As A New Dad

You hear it all the time. 'My life has changed... It's the best thing that has ever happened to me.' I was always one to think that I would not fall custom to clichés. They were just things that people said, and everyone else just jumped on the bandwagon as they could not explain how they felt. It's just amazing how a little child can change your look on everything!

Prior to Matthew arriving, I thought I was invincible. I had my routines, and everything just sailed on normally, and change was something that did not happen to me, even if it meant that I buried my head in the sand. I struggled to show, and at time feel, emotions, but everything carried on somewhat smoothly. Then we found out that we were pregnant.

At first I thought everything would carry on. I knew that I would have more responsibilities, but it was something that I would be able to include into my already packed schedule, and whilst I probably could, nobody would tell me that I would not want to!

The pregnancy went reasonably well. All scans and tests came back well. He was healthy. There was a little scare near the end that he had not grown as much as he should have, but a second scan a week alter showed everything was well. Matthew was due on February 10, and labour started on the twelfth so he was pretty much on time.

Labour—I've seen films. I've heard the stories. It did not quite go down that way! My fiancé first started having small contractions on the eleventh, but they were not consistent. We went into the hospital late that night, and they sent us home after an hour or so. Throughout the whole day, my partner tried to rest. She started getting a bit of discomfort in her back, and was asking for painkillers. At this point, I had an embarrassing moment—I told her that if she could not handle the back pain, she wouldn't be able to handle the labour pains. Little did I know... They were the labour pains! Turns out they are not always felt at the front. Yes, I know! That was bad, but I promise, I was good for the rest of the labour.

As she was in a lot of pain, we went back into the hospital where they told us that she was just dehydrated, and they put her on a drip for a couple of hours, but due to her not showing that she was in extreme pain, they believed labour had not started. After the two hours, the nurse came in and said we could go home, and she would do a routine check, but was sure it had not started. After just twenty seconds, the nurse turned to me and asked if we had an overnight bag, because she was already five centimeters dilated. We were taken to the delivery room, and within a few hours, Matthew was here. Overall, it went well. By 1:03 AM, Matthew was here. A small baby lying on a mat. The nurse asked me to pick him up. After moving my hands around for around 30 seconds, I asked... how? And so began fatherhood.

Admittedly, at first everything was just surreal. People asked me how I felt and I genuinely did not know what to say. I knew I cared for him, and wanted to be there, waking up in the night, changing the nappies and holding him, but I did not know how I felt. Was it fear to care for a small child? Was it just a new feeling I did not understand? For weeks, it was a routine, something I became accustomed to. I had my two weeks paternity leave, and enjoyed being at home with the family.

The first time I really started feeling was when I had to go away to Paris for 10 days to work. The morning I left, I was in tears. I was leaving my little buddy behind. What if he forgot me? He was coming up to two months and I had seen him every day. He had started picking up little characteristics, and I was scared by the time I came back, he would not remember me! Luckily, we video called every day, and he carried on hearing the sound of my voice.

In the third month, I was working around the country again, and was away for a few nights throughout the month again. At this point, Matthew had been smiling, crying, and building his own little characteristics... and with me away, he was giving mummy a hard time!

Now we are in the fifth month. I now know what vulnerability feels like. It's a love that is so different. He's got his own characteristics. He's turning. He has teeth coming out. His mum wants to argue that he has already said 'mama' which, whilst the sound came out, I am not buying that he knew he said it, so I am still holding out for his first word to be 'dada'. Fat chance, eh? But I can't get enough of him. For the first time, I am thinking that I need to take extra special care of myself—for him! Everything I do is for him. I am talking to people and they are telling me I am smiling so happily every time I mention him. I rush home every day, knowing I can be with him. I'm imagining a future, and he is the centre of it. It is scary this vulnerability, but I don't care. It's made vulnerability worth it.

I do not know what the future holds; what kind of child, teenager, or man he will be, but I know that the future will be nothing like my protected and routine led past, but you know what... I don't care!