I'm Becoming My Dad, Singed Eyebrows and All

As I look back through my childhood and think of some of my favorite memories, there is a look on my dad's face that I can distinctly remember. He always looked like he had just stuck his finger in a light socket. My dad was never the most graceful of men, a fact which we as a family blamed on him being left handed, lol. (No offense to you left handed folks) It was a noticeable surprised or frazzled look that seemed to run across his face for most of my childhood. Now excluding those three times during home repairs my father actually did electrocute himself, I never quite understood why he always looked frazzled...until now. I'm becoming my dad, singed eyebrows and all.  

Why was my dad always so frazzled, and seemingly caught off guard all the time? The short answer is, because he had four boys, and the long answer is because he had FOUR BOYS! You see I come from a bit of a blended family. Both of my parents were previously married and had a son with their exes and then they got married and adopted each others' kid as their own. Then twelve years later I came along and a year after that my baby brother. So just as my parents were sending two of their teens off to college their other two kids were just starting elementary school. Now I don't know from experience just yet as my little guys is just four weeks old, but what I've heard from my parents, friends, TV, movies, and just about everything else is that raising a teen is hard work. So that must mean raising two teens is even more difficult, and raising two while also trying to raise two babies is near impossible. I can remember growing up trying to surprise my dad along with my partner in crime, my younger brother Justin. Now we weren't the most nefarious of kids, but from time to time we would try to scare, beat up, wear down, or prank our dad. We thought it was the greatest pass time ever. Throw into the mix that my father worked a hard job at a factory most of my childhood, often leaving the house before daybreak, working overtime, and still pretended to have the energy to play with us when he got home and his surprised looks and fatigue starts to make a whole lot more sense. 

My dad was and still is a great father. But the great thing about having good parents is that they want us to grow and learn from their mistakes so we have better lives than what they have. Every good parent wants better for their children. There are lots of great qualities I'd love to emulate from my father as I start my own family. However there are things that I know I'd like to try differently, simple goofy mistakes my dad made that aren't even worth thinking about. The idea was for me to not have that frazzled look my father had, to be a little more prepared, even for the unexpected. So with planning, preparation, and a little more "perceived wisdom" I began they legendary journey that is fatherhood. And I felt SO prepared for fatherhood...until I actually became a father. And now those frazzled looks and simple mistakes make a whole lot more sense. And I'm making them.

So let me give you just one of several examples that have already occurred in my baby boys short four weeks of life so far. As I mentioned before my dad seemed to be a pro at not being a pro, that is to say my dad had an uncanny knack for making silly mistakes. It's these types of mistakes I find creeping into my life now that my boy is in the picture. So a few weeks ago after getting home from the hospital I realized I needed to mow my yard. It's not a large yard and is not a very difficult task. As I was filling up the push mower my wife popped out of the garage with the baby. She was simply bringing him outside walking around the yard enjoying the nice day. I left the mower walked over and held the baby and talked with my wife a minute before heading back to the mower and started mowing. As I finished the first lap around my front yard I noticed my legs were wet. Baffled I continued pushing forward another couple of feet until I realized that I had left the gas cap off of the mower and it had been spraying out the entire time. Now I'm not necessarily what you'd call a "handy guy" but screwing a gas cap on is certainly in my skill set. So why on earth did I turn into an idiot who forgot to screw on a gas cap? The short answer is I have a newborn and the long answer is I have a NEWBORN! Being a father is a whirlwind of little sleep, long hours, hard work, and just doing the best you can, silly mistakes, frazzled looks and all. And Now I know why my dad drank two pots of coffee a day.

My Wife Gave Birth to A Pterodactyl

So I'm not exactly sure how to say this but, my wife gave birth to a pterodactyl. Well, he might as well have been a pterodactyl between the bluish color, cone head, and blood curdling screech he popped out with. I know about as much about paleontology as I do about babies and the delivery process. And all that after reading and preparing as much as I thought I possibly could. There are no two ways about it, being in the delivery room as a first time father was a very foreign and surreal experience. Over the past couple of weeks my new 9 lb 10 oz son has obliged me with a lot of "extra thinking time" which I so foolishly had been using for sleep in the years before he came on the scene. It is in that time, of rocking this screaming baby back into dream land, that I have been going over his grand entry into this world and my part in the process. There are a few things that I have concluded that I'd like to throw out there and share with you.

I Am Not In Control

First and foremost, I am not in control. There was absolutely nothing in the entire two day delivery process that I was in control of. Not the timing, pain management, actions of the nurses or doctor, how my wife acted, how my mother-in-law acted, nor when visitors would come and go. Every aspect of the entire experience was chaotic.

There we are, my wife's legs up in the stirrups, I'm holding one leg and my mother-in-law is holding the other. And there I am face to face with one of the most disturbing Dr. Jekyll and Mr.Hyde transformations I've ever witnessed. The startled look on my face was soon ripped away by the next contraction and my excitement to do the one thing I'm allowed or even know how to do and that is to tell my wife to breath, as if she'd forget if I didn't tell her. There are so many moving parts and things which I've never experienced and don't know anything about. I am so grateful that I was not in control, because I would have messed everything up. I was happy to let my wife make the decisions and the doctor to do his thing.

Sometimes I Cannot Eliminate Pain In the Lives of Those I Love

I learned something about 7 months into the pregnancy and it became cemented into my mind when my wife went into labor, and that is sometimes I cannot eliminate pain in the lives of those I love. It seemed just about everything started breaking down when my wife became pregnant. From aching ankles, busted backs, and chaffed chests, all building up her strength for the great challenge of child birth.

But it truly was one of the hardest things I've ever experienced, watching the person I love the most hurting. For me, and I feel most men in general our automatic reaction is to "do" everything and anything we can to eliminate that pain or try to change the situation. And there was nothing I could do to take away the pain my wife was experiencing in the delivery room. Part of not being in control is realizing that we often can do little or nothing about the pain those we love are experiencing. All we can do is hurt with them and support them while they go through it. And ice chips, lots of ice chips, apparently that helps too. 

Sometimes Pain Is Not Always A Bad Thing

Despite how rough it is to watch the person you love in pain, sometimes pain is not always a bad thing. All of the pain, grimaced faces made, and tears produced something, someone beautiful, a wonderful baby boy. That pain was productive, and while it may not have felt like that in the moment, it had a purpose. While not all pain obviously has such a wonder and joyous conclusion there is much we can gain through the pain that we go through in life. Lessons are learned, strength is forged, relationships created, and encouraging examples are made to others soon to experience similar circumstances.

We don't only learn from that junk that we go through, but we're able to share those experiences with others and possibly encourage and help them through similar circumstances. That's the greatest thing about the pain, whether good or bad, that we go through. Not everyone's wife is going to birth a pterodactyl, but there is one unifying universal truth about having a baby and that is, epidural or not, it hurts. 

No Amount of Preparation Readied Me for the Unexpected and That's Okay

Books, blogs, articles, family advice, advice from friends, and so much more provided a lot of help and encouragement. But no amount of preparation readied me for the unexpected and I've now learned that's okay. Labor pains aside there was a moment when the doctor was pulling my son out and I felt like he was a magician pulling out a multicolored handkerchief that just kept coming, he was 23 inches long, and the excitement to hold my son nearly exploded out of my chest. Nothing and I mean NOTHING prepared me for the moment I first saw my son in my arms.

The same can be said about the first night he wouldn't stop crying...two feedings, three unnecessarily changed diapers, and extra burping all doing nothing. Children, or in my case child, as I've only got one is an incredible amount of work. Anyone who says that it's easy, natural, or fun in the beginning is either a bold faced liar or on drugs. But seriously, every child is different and my boy Gideon is an extraordinary blessing and already a part of my heart. Also, watching my wife not only birth, but raise this kid three weeks into this adventure called parenthood has impressed me to no end. She is amazing. Part of the joy of life is being caught off guard with the unexpected and finding the joy in every moment.  With all that being said, he may be a pterodactyl, but he's my pterodactyl.