Unknown Unknowns: the Day I Found Out I was going to be a Dad

It’s been 23 weeks since my wife woke me at 6am on a grey Saturday morning to tell me I was going to be a dad.

We’d already been through so much to get there; months of trying, the endless waiting and doctors’ consultations; then upping sticks and moving from our tiny flat in Finchley, North London, leaving jobs and friends behind, and heading North to Stockport in search of proximity to family, fresh air and affordable housing. But after we’d hugged, kissed, cried and collected our thoughts; a cold feeling hit me. The clock was now ticking, and I was not ready.

Questions I really should have addressed earlier came screaming to the surface. What the hell was I doing trying to be a parent? That was something real people did, not me. I feel guilty about keeping our cat indoors, so choosing to create another human, and bringing it into this world to raise according to my rules on the assumption that I knew what was best, was a gesture of hubris so egregious it made Doctor Frankenstein look like Doctor Doolittle.

We play our marriage like a team sport, our salaries and responsibilities shared equally in running the home.

But now my teammate was about to spend a seriously long time on the benches. How could I, a never-changing man-child who still can’t grow a beard in his thirties, who owns not one but two pairs of Batman pyjamas, offer any kind of solid or stable support to a grown woman as she dealt with the biggest stress her body would go through since she, lifelong vegetarian, accidentally ate that meatball sandwich I’d left in the fridge?

What an arrogant move to assume I was responsible enough to be a father. What an arrogant move it was for anybody to assume that. I was walking into unknown unknowns and, not for the first time, felt lost in the woods.

How would I find the time to get the house up to code? When the baby arrived home and my wife recovered, how could I look after them both? How would I do that and keep the kitchen stocked, the house clean, the car running and the cat fed and watered, with a clean litter tray? What if the baby got into the litter tray?! And most importantly, how could I do all that and support three people with just one salary when we were already struggling to support the two of us with twice that amount?

This was supposed to be fantastic news. We’d moved mountains to get there, so why wasn’t I celebrating? I’d like to think I took these questions in my stride, prioritising each one as they presented themselves. Instead I put on a clean pair of Batman pyjamas, got back in bed, googled ‘how to be a dad’ on my phone and tried to sell the cat on Gumtree.

Now, it’s nearly six months later, and thankfully the worst of these feelings have passed. It hasn’t been easy, it wasn’t any one ‘magic trick’ that did it. Instead, the change has been slow, organic and, hopefully, lasting. When the news struck, it felt like everything was going to happen at once – my wife would inflate before my eyes like an airbag on impact, before standing up and dropping our baby straight out into the washing basket. Then the screaming would start.

That never came, and time has allowed me to get used to the idea of parenthood; the unknown unknowns I feared so much are already producing some unexpected and amazing moments – seeing our child for the first time at the scan, announcing it to our family, learning that we’d be having a girl, a Christmas card ‘from the bump’ and shopping in the John Lewis January sale for tiny hats.

Now I can see that these nine months aren’t just giving the baby time to grow, it’s time for me too. Fatherhood is going to be full of surprises. Some will be good, some might be less so. I’m none the wiser as to what might come next, and that’s ok. Getting lost in the woods is going to be a great adventure.

Related posts:

American Dad Dad’s Notes from a Delivery Room Student from AESG wins Lego Batman Competition! Dads Take To The Water! Take your dad for a ride!