Becoming a Father

It’s been 38 days since my son was born and it’s been a happening 38 days so far. I remember the day he was born. We were sitting in the waiting room when my name was called and the doctor informed me that I have had a boy.  My first reaction was relief that the whole ordeal called pregnancy was finally over. I remember that the only things on my mind the first few days were insurance formalities, hospital expenditure, well-being of my wife (who oddly enough, everybody was fine neglecting) and finally the health of the barely born kid.

The first time I held the baby was nothing short of a disaster. I had seen others do it, and I know the theory of how-to, but when I first tried to lift the baby up from his crib, all that cognizance went out the window. I lifted him using his shoulders. What happened after that seems to have happened in slow motion. The kid’s head started falling back as his body was coming up and at the same time simultaneous shrieks and cries of admonishment were originating from my mother and his mother. The kid was mid-air when I realized my mistake and tried to rectify it by plopping him back into the crib. The soft plop of his head against a well-padded crib was the loudest crash I had felt in my entire life. For the next 2 days I kept a really close eye on the kid dreading and pleading with God that my stupidity didn’t cause any damage to the kid. 

Perhaps the most anticlimactic moment came 3 days after his birth. I had seen both my parents get emotional as soon as they held the little dude for the first time. I had never seen tears in my dad’s eyes before the day he nestled the little one for over an hour in his lap. My wife was already bewitched by the kid and everybody around me were enchanted with him except me. For me, the kid was just a bundle of pink who slept more than 21 hours a day and greenish poo came out of it from time to time. I had seen and read that the real bond between a father and kid is formed when the kid holds on to the father’s finger. I wanted to create that overdrawn cliché to feel what I should. I tried to thrust my finger into the kids grip, but he wouldn’t have it. When I finally managed to get my finger into his hands, he just popped his hand open and let it go. I tried that 5-6 times but everytime the kid refused to hold on to the finger.

Then came the day when we brought him back home with the mother in tow. I had seen all the people around me watching a sleeping kid for hours without getting bored, and I just didn’t get it. I sat down next to the kid that night, in order to talk to my wife, who was just enamoured with him. I told her how the kid refused to hold my finger, but she didn’t believe me. So I tried demonstrating it and this time he held on to the finger and gripped it like his life depended on it. It was a very strange and inexplicable feeling. I was feeling ecstasy, fear, anxiety, pride, laughter and crying all at the same time. I suddenly felt that connection, which was missing till then and thus donned the heaviest hat I had ever taken on, that of a father.

Now I frequently watch me sleeping son for hours. Can’t think of any better stress buster. Now I feel proud when I get him to stop crying. Now I take selfies with him (but don’t show it to everybody). Now I change his diapers without a second thought. So in the end, my son was born 38 days ago but I became a father since the past 32 days.