I’m about to be a father for the first time and I’ve been riding an emotional rollercoaster ever since I found out;
One day, I’m EXCITED…the other, I’m almost FREAKING OUT…almost.
But thank God for the fathers who have walked the path before me. Hearing their first experiences as fathers is encouraging, inspiring…and VALIDATING.
Knowing how they felt versus how things have turned out for them so far gets me EXCITED for the journey ahead, because it seems the challenges that come with fatherhood actually birth something…I don’t have the exact word for it…but it’s GOOD, especially when God’s in it.
One such story is that of an ambitious man who had to put his financial aspirations on hold to stay home and take care of his newborn daughter while his wife went to work, something he had never seen himself doing.
The journey however has established a bond between them, so strong that his ambitions have changed.
Read the story below:
…
Life was just about the two of us, my wife and I…all lovey-dove, mushy, focused on each other, not planning for any other person but just the two of us. That was until one Christmas season when life-changing news invaded our world…for the better.
We were driving home from spending a weekend at my in-laws’ when she started feeling giddy and said, “I feel nauseous,” instantly setting off all the alarms in my head.
“Nauseous? What do you mean you’re feeling nauseous?”
As soon as we got home, before settling down I suggested that she get a pregnancy test kit. She obliged and left to buy one at a close pharmacy, coming back home shortly after with the results already in hand.
“The test is positive,” she said. It had actually been six weeks.
It’s not like I had never imagined we would be parents one day, but hearing that news in that moment was just, “WOW!”
I couldn’t hold my tears. I cried immediately.
We sat silent for close to half an hour, both of us lost in thought.
“This is real. We are going to be parents.”
The following day, however, the excitement started kicking in and we had to go out to celebrate. Good thing we did, because the road ahead was about to get bumpy (pun intended).
The nine-month pregnancy brought days that required an immense amount of mental fortitude, because the enemy (the devil) fought us hard. He started creeping in with such doubtful thoughts as, “Is this pregnancy real or will my wife lose it?” and I had to engage in spiritual warfare and cancel them in Jesus’ name, saying, “My child will live.”
I could also see the fear in my wife’s eyes when her cramps would get intense, or experience the changes in moods and emotions that pregnancy brought. She’d lose her taste for certain foods and I knew it was serious when she started bringing home Five Guys or Burger King, her being such a health enthusiast.
I had to be that support system that grounded her, constantly speaking hope, speaking life, reassuring her that we would get through it. I had to do my best to make sure she doesn’t get stressed through the pregnancy.
“Turi kumwe (We’re in this together), whatever happens,” I’d always tell her. I’d also throw in some jokes, occasionally. “I need to have my first dance with her, you know.” Anything I could to lighten up her mood whenever the enemy tried to bombard her mind with fearful thoughts, I did.
We watched a lot of Dry Bar Comedy clips for a good laugh. We walked, exercised and stretched together every day to stay active. At some point, I even had to stop wearing deodorants and perfumes around her, because the smells were no longer appealing to her.
Through it all, I’m thankful that she stayed strong until the D-day.
…
My daughter was born in a water tub. Seeing her in the water was exhilarating. After she safely made it out, the nurses invited me to cut the cord and I sat down as they handed me my daughter who was letting the world know of her arrival with her shrilling first cry. As soon as she lay on my chest, she went calm, silent…and that’s when I started crying.
Feeling the newborn whose life God entrusted me with in my arms was such a beautiful, emotional moment, at the same time heavy on my shoulders with the weight of responsibility it bore.
“God…WE NEED YOU,” is all I could whisper under my breath, even though filled with excitement.
That whisper sparked more prayer that night at the hospital after failing to sleep with my mind still imagining what lay ahead.
“God, please lead me as I lead my family. I want to do a great job. I want to change history and raise her differently from how I was raised.” And thus began the journey to changing my family history.
…
I was born in Uganda to a big family, and I mean BIG. I have nine siblings. Growing up, I witnessed my father going out every day to work to provide bread and butter for the family. In my culture, the man is mostly the one who provides for the family, while the woman stays home and takes care of the children. If both parents have work, there’s a maid or someone else to take care of the home and the children in their absence.
As for me, I’m married to an American and I live in the USA where maids are expensive, so when my baby girl came into my life and my wife had to go back to work, I had to be involved twenty-four-seven, so much that I had to painfully leave my job where I had worked for seven months and had just been given a raise.
Being an ambitious person, I always set financial goals, plan to invest in assets like property, and do what I need to do to score. I did not know how to sit at home all day. So having to leave extra money on the table to stay home and take care of my daughter took me aback, to be honest.
I had always wanted and prayed for children,…and I LOVE my baby girl…but for a moment it felt like she was going to stop me from achieving my goals.
“Do I really want more kids after this one?” I seriously contemplated, and meeting the daily demands that come with a newborn did not help.
My wife and I were like zombies the first three months, getting only two to three hours of sleep because our daughter claimed dominion over our arms as her bed, and always woke up as soon as we laid her in her crib.
I would sleep at 10 p.m. as my wife held our daughter in her arms, then wake up at 2 a.m. to do the same till morning…and the rest of the day, since my wife would have to go to work until 8 p.m.
My days consisted of changing diapers, preparing her milk and feeding her, thinking for her, and sitting on my chair scrolling through my phone as she slept on my other arm. She would sleep for thirty minutes and be up for an hour, an endless cycle, a twenty-four-hour job.
The days were long. I would, for instance, look at my watch in the morning and it would read 9:00 a.m. I’d check again about ‘five hours’ later to find the time at 10:00 a.m. Man…I felt like I was about to run mad…AYAYAY! It wasn’t as glamorous to me as many said it would be.
“God, I don’t want more kids,” I contemplated again a few more times. “One is enough!”
…
I was a first time dad. I had to learn a lot on the go because my daughter didn’t come with a manual…or return policy. It was challenging.
Thankfully we lived by a beach, and on my wife’s days off, to stay grounded and get in the right mental space, I would give myself an hour in the morning to go for a ten-kilometer-run along the shores of the Pacific Ocean before sitting down and staring into the horizon while talking to God.
I also listened to sermons and scripture-based podcasts that filled my faith tank, which helped me avoid numbing myself or coping with my stress unhealthily.
I regularly talked on the phone with dear friends of mine who encouraged me, and I am blessed with an amazing church family that was massively supportive, volunteering to help any way they could twice a week.
We needed all the help we could get. Our full attention had shifted from each other to our daughter and all her needs, physical and emotional. Friends and family too were focused on her. Greetings had changed from “How are you guys?” to “How’s the baby?” whenever they called. As a result, our emotional tanks ran low, and the smallest of things would agitate and easily tick us off.
Even more, my wife and I had not been intimate for two months since our baby girl was born. I had lost the desire to be sexually intimate with her. I really can’t explain what witnessing the agony she went through, giving birth, did to me. It’s not that I was frightened. I was there with her, firmly holding her hand the whole time. But for some reason, I couldn’t wrap my mind around what I witnessed, and I couldn’t think of anyone I was comfortable enough with to talk to about what was going on with me. It took prayers for me to desire my wife again…and a conversation.
She had noticed it and was worried, wondering what was wrong, and I had to be vulnerable and tell her, “It’s not that I don’t want to make love to you. I just don’t think I’m able to with the image of you giving birth still in my head.”
That’s when we had quality time for the first time in a while, and so began a fresh connection between us as we discussed what we needed to do to get back to each other, and prayed. We realized that we had to intentionally focus on each other every now and then in the midst of our responsibilities, taking care of our child.
“We love each other. We love this child. We were strong together before, and we need to stay strong for her,” is what we determined, and that meant weekend getaways out of state for some quality time when necessary.
Our intimacy has been rekindled ever since. My desire for her was restored. Hallelujah! Even more so, I developed a newfound respect for her as a mother. I’m in constant awe when I see her take care of our child. Even though I can sneak in some good hours of sleep, the job continues for her and she handles it like a champ.
…
Now, as our emotional tanks filled up again, my journey as a father started bearing more fruit. My daughter was growing and becoming more active, playful and vocal. I remember playing with her one day, tickling her, and as she laughed and screamed her lungs out, it dawned on me… “Wow! This is my offspring.”
As she grew to seven months old and started rushing towards me, crawling and reaching for me and hugging me with excitement whenever she saw me, I started realizing how all the hours spent at home with her were special moments building and strengthening a lifelong bond between father and daughter.
That’s when I started thinking, “What is money, really? Yes, I want to achieve a lot, but I love how fatherhood is going.”
I started gaining a whole new perspective, as it provoked me to reflect on my relationship with my father. The time that I have spent with my daughter, my siblings and I never did with him. Growing up, he showed us love by showering us with money. We never lacked anything, but at 40 years of age now, I can’t say that I share a strong bond with him.
I think I could have missed it with my daughter as well, because I didn’t see what was happening behind the scenes. I hadn’t quite enjoyed the tasking process at first, but as she approached her first birthday, the joy, gladness and gratitude for my experience with her began overwhelming me.
Now there’s so much I look forward to in my journey of fatherhood. There’s lots I’m dreaming of and selfishly reserving for just me and my daughter. When she turns sixteen, I want to fly with her to Europe. I want to ride with her in a Polaris Slingshot, rented or bought. I can’t wait to eat the first omelet she’ll cook me. I can’t wait for the first time she’ll shave my head after I retire my wife from her selfless service. I can’t wait for the dance-offs we’ll be having when she comes home from school bragging about a cool new dance move she has learned. I can’t wait to teach her the trades of the businesses I’ll grow. There’s so much I look forward to with my baby girl.
I might actually get a shotgun too, to keep the boys away. I just might snoop on her when she starts going to McDonald’s to “hang” with them. I just might park at a distance and stay hidden behind my steering wheel, in a trench coat and a fedora on my head. Yes, the men who were notorious at some point in their lives are the most protective ones with their daughters. It’s because they know what’s up!
I’m writing a new story for me and my family, my offspring, my legacy. And there’s nothing more rewarding than being a parent, nothing more rewarding than being a DAD. I can’t tell you how much I LOVE IT!
…
Thank you for reading.
I’m a husband and first-time Dad looking to make a living writing real life stories and testimonies to encourage others.
I’m also compiling more stories from other Dads for my first e-book.
If you’d like to support me, kindly donate here.
Also, Subscribe to receive stories in your inbox as soon as I publish new ones.
Thank you and God bless you.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
***
From The Good Men Project on Medium
What Does Being in Love and Loving Someone Really Mean? | My 9-Year-Old Accidentally Explained Why His Mom Divorced Me | The One Thing Men Want More Than Sex | The Internal Struggle Men Battle in Silence |
***
Join The Good Men Project as a Premium Member today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
A $50 annual membership gives you an all access pass. You can be a part of every call, group, class and community.
A $25 annual membership gives you access to one class, one Social Interest group and our online communities.
A $12 annual membership gives you access to our Friday calls with the publisher, our online community.
Register New Account
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
—–
Photo credit: Mon Petit Chou Photography on Unsplash