Millennial Dad

Little did we know that our LO (mommy blog shorthand for ‘little one’) is unable to filter out external stimulus like lights, sounds and sensations, as well as we can. 

We started noticing a pattern where each time we went out (during the festive season, like only a rookie parent can) our little guy had trouble settling down to sleep that evening. He’d sleep very lightly and wake up agitated every 20 or so minutes. The almighty Google led us to the conclusion that he’d just taken in too much that day and was struggling to regulate his brain activity down. 

Some of the key signs were:

He’d shut down whenever we were out. He wouldn’t babble or interact in any way

He’d become more clingy than usual, refusing to be put down

Falling asleep mid feed

The ear-piercing scream we hadn’t heard since his first few weeks

Once we cottoned onto this we started being more conscious of when in his wake-sleep cycle we went out with him (choosing to rather go after he wakes, not as he’s about to sleep). Carrying him in a sling instead of the pram for maximum assurance in unfamiliar environments and just limiting time spent outside the home.

Two: at a point, I was genuinely afraid

It was our first night home, we didn’t have the option of pawning our baby off with the nurses to get a decent night’s rest. I heard him fussing for the umpteenth time in the small hours of the morning, opened one eye and saw him make the face he makes before bawling out. My pulse increased, my mouth went dry and I knew it was fear that was being pumped into my bloodstream with each thump of my heart

Three: Mother’s deserve every good thing that comes their way and then some

No, really.

Four: I know more about dealing with infants than my parents do

Apart from easy access to information, there are so many avenues available for self-improvement to those privileged enough to access them. From ante-natal classes to lactation consultants, there was very little practical advise that our parents could offer and that’s okay. There’ll always be room for the grandness of grandparents

Five: Cheerleading doesn’t stop at birth for a dad

A mother’s milk will only arrive on the 2nd/3rd day, give or take. Possibly, the baby could get a little fussy during those days and the mom will constantly hear (from all and sundry) that what she has to offer in the form of food, isn’t enough. If exclusive breastfeeding is your chosen route, it’ll take a lot of encouragement that she’s got more than food to offer and that what the baby is getting is quite sufficient (given that their stomach can only handle 5ml at a time anyway)

Six: The love you feel for your offspring is directly proportional to the amount of sleep they’ll allow you

Finally, you’ll both find your feelings of gushy, mushy love start to wane as the sleep depravation and other pressures kick in. Baring other markers of post-natal depression, this is perfectly normal. There was a point where I had to admit to my wife that I see our child as a set of obligations than the object of my affection, only for her to echo those same sentiments. 

Where it’s revealed (whether in an instant or over time) that said relationships were built on a shaky foundation of misrepresentations and meaningless platitudes about fatherhood.  Whether it’s coming to realise that your father doesn’t live the values he tried to instil in your life or that he contributed little else other than his presence, I believe there’s a reason why fathers get the rap they do. In my view, it’s usually because of the focus fathers have had on either leaving a material legacy or an attempt to fashion their children’s lives after their own and thereby, having a meaningful impact on their progeny. 

We tend to forget that our fathers were taught about fatherhood in a very broken society and they, themselves were raised by broken men, in all likelihood. So unless I make the commitment to address my faults now and as I go, I’m bound to repeat my own father’s errors. Errors like refusing to appear vulnerable in front of my children, like portraying my word as infallible, like refusing them access to my reasons for making certain decisions, like withdrawing physical affection the minute they hit puberty.