Welcome to issue two. I don’t believe it myself. I guess I’m actually doing this thing. It certainly helps I now have an audience to keep me accountable.
This week I go introspective. I’ve been sitting on this for a while. I was thinking of putting it on my blog but I thought you, my loyal readers might like to see it. I’m only two issues deep and I already consider you loyal readers, how easy am I? So below you will find my thoughts on parenthood, from the delivery room to looking out to the future.
Bloggy Bit
Bubby Boy
Seven weeks have passed since the birth of my son, and an appropriate time for me to reflect. Early on I was often asked how it felt to be a father and depending on how you caught me I’d say something like “great but tired” or “there’s ups and downs.” The truth is I didn’t know how to put into words the enormity of my situation and the whirlpool of emotions I was tossed into.
Our baby was breech and we (I should say, Michelle) attempted everything you could think of to have him turned; crab walking, swimming, even acupuncture. We were then booked in for a ECV procedure (basically physically turning the baby from the outside) which the hospital didn’t go through with in the end because his foot was essentially stuck in the exit. And so our due date was booked. It did help in some ways knowing our baby was due on a certain date. We could get everything ready for his arrival and not go to bed every night thinking this could be the night. But also, when the day came closer the anxiety butterflies came too.
I remember feeling anxious right up until the point they sat me down in a red chair set a few metres away from the operating table in the middle of the theatre. I was dressed in scrubs with a digital camera hanging around my neck like a tourist at a safari. I remember counting all the people. But now I couldn’t tell you how many people there were or even if the chair was red. Being sat right back unable to hold Michelle’s hand, it was weirdly distant, like I was watching the whole thing on TV. As Michelle had her epidural I thought how brave she was for going through all of this and how glad I was she was doing it and not me (selfish of me, I know) because there was no way in hell I could handle that.
Then they moved the chair for me so I could sit next to Michelle and hold her hand while they operated. Time passed, lots of machine sucking noises. Then the surgeon exclaimed, “there’s a foot” and in a few seconds they held our little boy high up over the sheet so we could see him; a bawling creature covered in blood and amniotic fluid. In those few seconds it still didn’t hit me. It was like the uncanny valley, he didn’t look quite human, he was some sort of Weta CGI creation. It wasn’t until they let me around to cut the cord (or what was left of it) did I begin to get the dawning realisation he was mine.
When we had to leave the hospital it also sunk in how I now needed to protect him, no matter what. Driving him home was terrifying. My anxiety spirals; Are we leaving too early? Is the car seat installed correctly? Am I driving smoothly enough? What path home is safest? Perhaps the one with the lesser speed limit? In the end I took the highway and we made it home without incident as often is the case with anxiety. It’s mostly unfounded but feels oh so real in the moment.
Every day my love for him grows stronger. It’s cliche I know but it’s really true. Whether it’s rocking and patting his bum to put him to sleep, singing along to Anika Mona’s Songs for Bubbas (both volumes) or reading him The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling, which is quite dark let me tell you, there’s literally heart-ripping-out-of-chest stuff in there, and has spoilers for Harry Potter — lucky he’s just listening to the sound of my voice!
And yes, everything they say about babies is also true; they cry lots, they poop lots and they don’t always sleep when they’re supposed to. At night especially when he starts to stir and gurgle, we freeze like there’s a monster in the room as if even our mere breathing could wake and enrage him.
Speaking of parenting decisions. There’s nothing Internet commentators love more than stating how you’re parenting wrong. During our pregnancy we decided not to tell anyone our baby’s gender and while that angered some people close to us, we decided we didn’t want our baby to be pigeon-holed before he’s even taken a breath. And it all starts with the colour blue. It’s something that seems innocuous enough, it’s just a colour, but if you spend long enough in kids clothing aisles you start to see the drastic differences between boys and girls clothing, even in the slogans, when they’re unable to speak let alone tell you they want to grow up to be an All Black.
Yes, we often pick out gender-neutral clothing but we mostly just put on whatever clothes we have lying around. We still see him as a boy. If at some point in the future he realises he doesn’t identify with that then we’ll respect and love our child no matter what. Right now we don’t want to put him into any boxes. Why restrict what he can wear, what sports he can play, what his interests are because he’s a “boy?” It goes the other way for girls. Many people have gotten used to the idea of “tom boys” and that sits okay with them because masculinity is idolised. Whereas the opposite is still seen as taboo because femininity is something to be scared of and shut down when it comes to boys exhibiting these traits. If a boy enjoys wearing a dress at kindy it’s the end of the goddamn world. We don’t want our boy to see girls as inferior, to hate being seen as feminine, to grow up and treat women as merely a means to service his needs, to turn a blind eye at sexual violence.
As a man, as a father, as a parent, I have a huge responsibility on my shoulders, to exhibit the behaviours I want him to take on, to stand up for him when it counts. I can only hope I’m up to the challenge.
Review
Linkies
- Noclip’s touching documentary on the game developers behind Astroneer and how grief can shape a group of people. I love Danny and Noclip’s work. I’ve only recently found their stuff, so much so they got me on board as one of their Patreon donors.
- Promised Land Tales from NZ put out a new Kickstarter for Raven Wild, joining their collection of children’s books featuring LGBT heroes.
- The Comedy Festival released its schedule for Wellington and Auckland. I wish I could go to so many but I’m going to have to narrow it down. Here is what I hope to go and see:
Uther Dean – as mentioned last issue, Uther’s newsletter inspired me to start this one. I went along to his show last year. It was gloriously funny and he even threw some unexpected narrative twists in there. This one’s about the song Elevation by U2 so I imagine there’s going to be a fair amount of sick burns about my favourite artist but knowing Uther’s work I imagine it’ll be more nuanced than that. I’m on Twitter so I’ve heard all the U2 hate, I think I can take it!
Frickin Dangerous Bro – I’ve seen their sketch comedy several times and listen to their podcast (previously The Issues Podcast, now The Frickin’ Dangerous Bro Show). But I’ve never seen their individual stand-ups. Jamaine, Pax and James all have their own shows this year. From a money standpoint, it does make sense to go to the one with all three of them but sketch and stand-up are very different beasts where stand-up has time to get personal and learn about people’s stories.
Alice Snedden – Last year Alice put out a deliciously wicked webseries called Alice Snedden’s Bad News where she tackles one social issue at a time in humorous fashion. She boldly confronts politicians and other key figures in ways I could only dream of. I haven’t seen her stand-up yet but having listened to her podcast Boners of the Heart with co-host Rose Matafeo, I’m sure this will be up or down my alley.
If you enjoyed this newsletter, please yell it on a mountain.
*high fives*
Michael
