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ponderingsofanewfather · 5 years

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Pondering the Things that Other People Say

My daughter is only three weeks old now, and yet many people (parents, coworkers, nurses, you name it) have been commenting about her. In this post, I'll go over the most common things that have been said regarding my child, and ponder whether or not those things are accurate.

"She's so cute!"

This one has been said fairly consistently over the past 20 days by basically everyone who has seen the baby. Or a picture.

When a baby first enters the world, they don't look cute. They're not ugly, either; they just kind of are. They also don't look like a baby; when my daughter came out, she looked like someone cut mouth- and eyeholes into a chicken that was boiled in fruit punch flavored Gatorade for two hours. (Many people have hit me for that analogy, and I'm fairly certain that I deserve it.)

I never really understood what people mean by "babies are cute", but now I think I do. Babies aren't objectively cute (by my standards); they're endearingly cute. Looking at a baby (human or otherwise) evokes a feeling of "I want this helpless being to be safe and warm and happy". They have a whole life ahead of them, and we want it to be filled with good times and warm fuzzies. For some reason, we stop thinking this when they become adolescents; then it's just "when I was your age, I was changing 27 tires every week in the snow" or something.

As a side note, I've never heard someone tell a parent that their baby is ugly, so saying that she's cute doesn't mean that much. That's apparently something you don't tell a new parent: "Hey, congratulations on your baby! She's indistinguishable from what Edward and Alfonse Elric made when they tried to transmute their mother back to life!".

"You'll feel an instant connection to her."

My parents and older coworkers have told me this since before the birth. It's apparently an instinctual thing; everyone might think that a baby is cute, but it's actual love that changes her diapers and feeds her every three hours.

This one is... I'm not sure how true it is. Today, I definitely love my daughter, but when she first came, I didn't. Maybe it's because I'm not emotionally normative, but she just seemed... there. Sure, she's a baby, but so what? She doesn't do tricks or anything special. She's an organic machine for taking in formula and outputting poop.

I suppose it took some time for that bond to form. Repeatedly visiting and holding her probably did it; after a C-section, you don't really get those chances.

"She kicks so much! She's gonna be a great soccer player!"

The nurses in the NICU have said this a lot. They see her every day, so they would know.

I can at least attest to half of this one; my daughter moves her limbs every chance she gets. Diaper change? Time to move! Swaddle is slightly undone? Let's practice being a frog! Just waking up? I'm gonna punch whatever is right above my head!

I'm sure having an active baby is great, but why the "soccer player" comment? All babies kick, but not all of them become soccer players, much less great ones. Maybe she'll just be an especially active accountant? That seems more reasonable.

"Congratulations!"

This one doesn't really have a true/false score, but it is worth mentioning. It's basically the go-to thing to say to a new parent; I've even heard it from complete strangers.

I don't want congratulations for making a baby. I'm the father; I did the easy part. I'm certainly terrifiedexcited for the years to come, but up until now, I've done near zero hard work. My wife, on the other hand, underwent seven months of gestation followed by surgery: she deserves your praise. Congratulate her on what may be the most difficult part of her life; don't congratulate me on having unprotected sex and accepting the consequences.

Even so, we as a society value having children, so congratulations are usually in order for anyone who has them. Maybe I'm just too cynical.

And these were just said within the first three weeks. I may not survive the comments over the next 18 years...

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ponderingsofanewfather · 5 years

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Pondering The Before

My wife recently had to have a C-section at 33 weeks (7-ish months) into her pregnancy. A lot has happened since we first learned we were expecting, so I like to look back at the things I've done and wonder if I did them right.

WEEK NEGATIVE 1 -- PROLOGUE

We had a discussion regarding children. At that point in our lives, we had steady jobs, slowly increasing savings, and a lack of variety. Normal people might fix this by taking classes together or starting a new hobby, but we decided to try for a child. My wife seemed more open to the idea than I was, but that doesn't mean I was unwilling.

I might've been more open about my feelings, or lack thereof; I knew that I didn't feel as strongly as she did about potential children. Even so, this was going to be the next chapter of our lives, and then was the best time yet to start it.

WEEK 4 -- WHEN WE LEARNED

We learned that we were expecting early on. My wife's gynecologist confirmed via ultrasound that we had a budding embryo, due to be born in late September 2019. Looking back at our reactions, my wife was significantly more excited than I was. She was planning on telling our parents pretty soon and thinking about nursery designs, whereas I was making cold jokes about parasites and crushed dreams.

At this point in our marriage, my wife knows that I don't share my feelings very well, but I really should've been happier, or at least more supportive. When we're young, we're told that pregnancy is one of the most magical things that can happen; the least I might've done is act happy to learn of it.

WEEKS 8-20 -- DID YOU TAKE LATIN IN HIGH SCHOOL?

There's a pregnancy phenomenon known as hyperemesis gravidarum. It's a medical phrase meaning "holy crap, I feel like I need to vomit 24/7, and the baby inside of me is why". We were unlucky enough to encounter this for about 12 weeks. During that time, my wife couldn't keep down food with flavor more complex than plain chicken and mashed potato. Easy enough to cook, but hard to make nutritious enough for two (three if you count myself).

It was during this time that we had a miscarriage scare. After bending over, my wife felt a large surge of liquid, which turned out to be red and clotted. At first, I felt a bit disgusted at the notion of it (I don't handle bodily fluids well). A few minutes later, the reality set in; my own child might've lost her chance at life.

That's when it became more real for me. Despite the birth being many months away, despite not knowing the kid at all... I wanted her to live. She deserved to live, and we had no way of knowing if she would. Fortunately, the embryo was still there and alive, but we took a bit more care after that.

WEEKS 21-32 -- THE DARKNESS STIRS

With the intense nausea behind us, the embryo became a fetus and started moving. She started out very active, with numerous kicks and rolls and hiccups. It was honestly fun to hear about when she was moving and turning about, but even more fun to feel it for myself. It's a bit like feeling your uvula with your finger: at first, you're weirded out, but you can't help going back for more.

This time period was also when I said my first words to my daughter. We had heard that babies can hear through the walls of the uterus, so if you get close enough, they might be able to hear your voice. So, during one of the baby's particularly kicky dance routines, I decided to lean in close and whisper some loving words.

"Leave my wife alone, you little bitch."

Of course, I said it in jest. My wife knew that too, but that didn't stop her from hitting me on the shoulder. Nor did it stop the baby from practicing karate forms.

I learned then that jokes about pregnancy shouldn't be menacing. You might think it's all in good fun, but harsh words will evoke harsh responses, even if you don't mean them. I tried to be more lighthearted after that.

WEEK 33 -- THE PREECLAMPSIAN ERA

It still sounds like it might be one of the ages before mankind.

When we first saw the signs, we thought that maybe it wasn't so bad. It was just a bit of a headache and high blood pressure, no big deal. It'll go away.

It didn't, though.

My wife's feet began to swell next. We bought compression socks, hoping that they would help reduce her foot size a bit. They didn't.

Then her legs started swelling, too. One of the indicators of preeclampsia is called "pitting edema", which is where you can press into the legs and leave an indentation that stays. We could've played tic-tac-toe with the indentations that we left. I actually tried; my wife wasn't as amused as I was.

It was then that we tested her urine with a special testing strip. It detects all sorts of stats related to pregnancy using a series of colors; the one relevant to preeclampsia started yellow and became greener and darker with the presence of some kind of proteins. Her reading was blue.

I encouraged her to call her doctor at this point; something was clearly wrong. Her doctor encouraged her to go to the hospital. The hospital decided to put her through an emergency Cesarean section. Normally, they would want to do this at 34 weeks, but the preeclampsia was too severe.

I finally felt like I did something right. If she hadn't gone to the hospital here, we might've lost the baby, and then maybe I would've lost her. I followed her to the Labor and Delivery ward both proud and worried.

WEEK 33.5 -- SECURITY BREACH

The moments leading up to the surgery were... weird. Confidence mixed with dread. The chances of a complication were small, but still not zero. That's fine if a "complication" means losing a bet or taking more time, but when the stakes are as severe as two lives, even a tiny chance seems too large.

Our surgery was delayed due to an emergency c-section that came in before us. We had to wait another three hours before we could be transferred. This didn't really help us calm down, though. Stakes being too large and all that. We watched old reruns of Family Feud before we were wheeled to the operating theater.

While my wife was prepped for surgery, I had to get dressed in a white jumpsuit made of some itchy material. The suits went up to XXL size; they did not fit. I had to get a set of the doctors' operating gowns and booties. I'm told I looked ridiculous. I thought I looked more ridiculous than usual.

The surgery room itself was fairly calm. There are a lot of people moving about, and a lot of beeping instruments, but those somehow don't really bother you. I tried making a few jokes to my wife, but she didn't respond. Probably because of the epidural.

After 20 minutes of waiting and 10 minutes of operating, the room erupted in cheering - our daughter was out. She took about 20 seconds to start crying, but when she started, oh boy did she start. As my wife got repaired, I took pictures of the newly born baby. Everyone kept saying that my new daughter was beautiful. Even now, I respectfully disagree.

Thus marks the end of my childless life. Over this time, I've learned a lot about myself, most notably about my bad joking habit. For instance, I learned that an ultrasound is neither the time nor the place to note that the baby's face looks like something out of The Grudge, despite how true that might be. I also learned that reassuring your wife, who is worried that she looks like a beached whale, that that's "understandable" is the wrong way to go about it. Negativity and sarcasm are generally bad approaches to handling a pregnancy, despite how entertaining they are to me.

I know that I'll continue to learn and grow as the baby does. I always thought when I was a kid that grownups know how to do everything; now I just hope that I'll seem that way to my own.

#parenting #thoughts #lessons learned #there's a time and place for everything #pregnancy #holy shit i'm a parent

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