Lu, I am your Father (this is a Star Wars reference). When Alex told me that she was pregnant I immediately started preparing for the greatest challenge of my life. I gave up alcohol, changed my diet (no sugar/bread), and started consistently going to the gym. Being as healthy as possible would ensure that my mind and body could handle whatever hell our little angel would be bringing to our lives. Then Lucy was born, and to be honest, life became pretty damn simple. I knew that I would have it easier than Alex, but I had no idea how much easier. Alex was recovering from giving birth and had to feed Lucy at all hours of the night. Meanwhile, I was the only one “sleeping like a baby”. I began to wonder what my role was, because after a few days it became apparent that it wasn’t being a parent. Lucy would only tolerate me holding her for a brief period before she was like, “excuse me strange man, please return me to the milk bags”. I thought I had taken a month off of work to be a dad, but soon realized it was to be a husband. Being well rested, hormonally balanced, and physically capable, I could provide Alex with much needed reprieve. When morning came and Lu refused to sleep in her crib, my body was a perfect bed (newborns love “body beds”). So my duties were: being a human bed, diaper changing, laundry and all the other household chores. When friends would come over to visit the baby, I almost felt guilty for being so well rested and full of energy (swipe for photo of me showing Lucy off ten days after her birth and I’m looking better than I have in ten years). I was convinced that I had it all figured out - that is until my month off from work ended and it hit me. Real life. It had completely slipped my mind that one day I would have to return to my job (the one that pays). Things weren’t so easy when a 12 hour day was added to the mix. It’s really hard to feel like you’re being a good dad when all you do is kiss your daughter on the head before you go to work and again before her bedtime. The entire 9 months of my wife’s pregnancy I was preparing for the wrong thing: time WITH my daughter. The real killer, is the time apart.
- Shane, a new dad
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