How I stopped worrying and learned fatherhood

I was not prepared to be a father. It doesn’t hit you in the head like a train, as they show in the movies. It’s a slow process, one that takes time. For me, it was 2 months. Here’s what happened.

A primer to Indian culture before I continue. Indian culture stipulates that the future mother be “dropped off” at her home on the seventh month of pregnancy. After childbirth, she will remain there for 3 more months under the care of her mother.

My wife opted to remain with me till childbirth. She decided it was better to be with her mother after. Her judgment turned out to be on point, as usual. She did need time to get adjusted to the new sleeping pattern.

I should rephrase that.

D, my wife, required time to get adjusted to the lack of sleep. And my daughter wasn’t helping either. She used to cry her throats out, in her signature high-pitched screech. I used to go daily to D’s home and stayed with them till night. Since D’s mom was struggling with cancer, D had a maid who helped her through the process. Space limitations at her home meant that I returned back and slept at my place.

Even though I played with my daughter and cuddled with her most of the time, I didn’t feel like a father, you know. I thought that to be a father was a rite of passage. Gone were the hard-partying days of old and here was this mature man born along with his child.

Nope, it doesn’t work that way.

I realized that I lacked a paternal affection for this new creature that we had brought into this world. I didn’t know what to do about it. I tried to force myself into doing it, but that reinforced the previous sentence. So, I decided to do what everyone else does when they face a problem they don’t quite understand.

I ignored it.

And I went along with my daily routine. My home — D’s home — play with child — listen to D’s complaints about lack of sleep — Sleep a bit — Play with child again — Kiss and go back home.

D wanted to stay with me before I went back to my work location. So, instead of the mandatory 3 months, she came back to our home after a month. Now, I too shared the sleeplessness. D — well-versed now — had a bit of fun watching me struggle. I didn’t complain about it. After all, it was our combined decision to have a child in the first place. A slight change to the routine aside, everything else stayed the same.

This went for another month. And the day arrived when I had to rejoin work, after my paternal leave. That was when things became interesting.
I felt sad. I did not want to leave this cute little creature at my home. I loved her smile, I loved her screech. But more than that, I loved her presence. Those small laughs and unsuccessful attempts to speak. All the little things flooded and came back. And I didn’t want to leave. I loved them both more than I imagined. But I did leave. Work is pay and I needed money.

On the flight back to work, I understood something. Becoming a father wasn’t a rite of passage or a realization. It is a slow process that grows on you. Something so imperceptible, that you don’t even realize you are changing. Like an addiction, but the good kind. You “become” a father the same way you became an addict.

Incremental doses of love, over a significant duration of time.

So, whoever you are, man or woman, if you ever feel/have felt the same way I did, remember it’s okay and not your fault. Do not be hard on yourself.
It takes time, patience, and most important — a lot of unconditional love.

Hope this helps.