Entry #3 – Becoming a Father in Real Time
Diaries of a Father
I think I speak for a lot of men when I say that during the process of your partner growing a tiny human inside her – it’s very difficult to feel the same connection she feels. You want to feel it with everything in you, but it isn’t happening inside your body. The experience is entirely hers. From the moment she sees that positive test, something awakens in her – a maternal instinct to love and protect that child instantly.
As real as it was, I just couldn’t connect to the idea that it was happening. Not fully. There were moments though – moments that broke through the fog and hit me right in the chest.
The moment she surprised me with the news that she was pregnant felt like a gift from God, a weight lifted off our shoulders. We had been anticipating that moment month after month with nothing but disappointment. Eventually, the hope of having children started to fade. Then suddenly, there it was – real, undeniable.
And then came the heartbeat. Hearing it for the first time sent an overpowering emotion straight to my core – a connection I couldn’t deny.
And I’ll never forget coming home to blue balloons and my wife shouting, “IT’S A BOY!” In that moment, it felt like I hit a walk-off home run with the bases loaded in the game of life.
But after those early emotional highs, life settles back into its normal pace. And it becomes difficult to stay connected to the reality that this is happening.
Until now.
It’s Sunday evening, roughly forty hours before our baby boy is brought into his new world – an experience that will change our lives forever. He has been healthy throughout my wife’s entire pregnancy. However, he’s been breeched the whole time. Like his father, he’s been stubborn. Despite every effort, he refused to turn. This has left us with no choice but to proceed with a scheduled C-section on Tuesday morning.
I believe I speak for both of us when I say there is a sense of relief in knowing we won’t have to anticipate the panic of her water breaking or rushing to the hospital under pressure. Still, I feel a world of empathy for my wife. There were moments in her pregnancy when she expressed how deeply she wanted a natural birth – how important it felt to her. She saw it as her birthright, as I’m sure many mothers do.
As her partner, it crushes me knowing there’s nothing I can do to change this outcome. I have the deepest reverence for her and everything she has done in her attempts to mitigate the breech – the stretching, the exercises, the cold packs on her stomach, the ancient Chinese practices, and finally the ECV, where a doctor at 37 weeks attempts to turn the baby externally. It’s an incredibly painful procedure. She tried so hard.
Unfortunately, as men, this is one of those moments where we confront our limits. Women carry this burden almost entirely on their own – physically, mentally, emotionally. The feeling of powerlessness – knowing you can’t help your partner with her quiet, unspoken hopes and fears. These feelings linger in my mind, and they are certainly heavy at times. Still, my efforts will not be remiss. I look forward to using these final hours, and the days to come, to step into the role that now belongs to me: caring for our newborn son while caring for my wife through her recovery and supporting her through her emotions she may be carrying.
In this moment however, the weight of the situation now feels like a lot to carry. A reassurance I have with myself is the faith that the universe never puts a weight on people that they aren’t built to handle. And this experience, like so many in life – aren’t so unique to us in this human experience.
It’s estimated that 110 – 120 billion babies have been born throughout human history. Each year, about 140 million more enter the world. Globally, around 21% of births – about one in five – occur by C-section. That’s tens of millions of families walking this same path every year. Those numbers should calm a wandering, anxious mind in knowing you’re far from alone.
Earlier today, my wife looked at me in the kitchen with deep concern in her eyes and said, “I’m scared.” And she’s allowed to be. She’s never been in the hospital for any kind of invasive surgery. This is new territory for her – and for me. I’ve never walked alongside someone I love this much as they prepare to go under the knife. Quietly – the feelings are mutual.
All I can do is be strong for her. Be the rock I promised I would be when we exchanged our vows. I am scared too – but I look forward to being there in a way no one else can. I love her with all my heart, and I hope that when Tuesday arrives, the moment will still be every bit as spiritual and profound as she always imagined.
In the beginning, the connection felt distant – something I kept reaching for but couldn’t grasp. But standing here now, on the edge of this moment, I finally understand: sometimes connection finds you when responsibility and love collide.
I am now connected.
– Written by Michael Brion
