Late bloomer
Starting fatherhood relatively late, this writer wonders if his maturity has helped him to better weather a difficult period in his parenting journey.
ISTARTED fatherhood late, at 40. At that time, most of my friends were either enjoying their bachelorhood, or were already married and busy deciding which secondary school or even college to send their children to.
And here I am still in early fatherhood, browsing the Internet for parenting tips, rushing to the hypermart for hot deals on diapers or milk powder, struggling to sing along to nursery rhymes with my children, checking out the kindergartens around our home.
Should I have started fatherhood earlier? What would it have been like being a dad in my early 30s? Would I have handled my children differently? Would I be stricter or more relaxed?
Our first child was born in April 2009. Surprisingly, I took to fatherhood like a duck to water, and was comfortable changing diapers and helping with the feeding (even in the wee hours of the morning). I enjoyed cuddling our son as he slowly fell into a slumber in my arms. And before I knew it he was turning into a toddler.
Then I was on my way to becoming a father for the second time. Again, I was on cloud nine fussing over my wife as she went through the pregnancy blues. But this time around it was not a smooth journey. My wife ran into complications at 24 weeks of pregnancy. We prayed daily for God’s blessing that everything would turn out fine despite the doctors trying to prepare us for the worst.
Two weeks later in the delivery room when my wife was 6cm dilated and in pain with contractions, the doctors were again trying to prepare us for the worst as baby was too tiny and premature. While trying to digest what was being said, we told the doctors to just give their best shot and let God decide.
He decided ours is a miracle baby and she is to be a strong fighter. At 26 weeks, our daughter was delivered prematurely in August 2010. Amidst all the commotion in the labour room with the doctors and nurses doing their job, all I could hear was the sweetest cry of a baby. She is indeed a strong girl.
Thus began my daily visits to the hospital’s neonatal intensive care unit. They were the highlight of my day, yet they came with a lot of trepidation as the doctor kept us updated on the potential health risks of a premature baby.
We would feel lost and worried, but I had to be strong and give my wife the fullest support ort and assure her for the umpteenth time that it wasn’t her fault. I would then turn to the Internet to understand d further the conditions. We would pray hard that our baby by girl would overcome all this and be fine.
Soon medical terms that had ad previously been alien to us like PDA (patent ductus arteriosus), ROP (retinopathy of prematurity), oxygen desaturation (desat) and apnea were starting to creep into our daily vocab at home as we discussed baby’s progress.
While all this was going on, my son was starting the terrible two’s syndrome of refusing his food, spitting out his porridge, throwing tantrums, screaming and having mini accidents despite all the childproof stuff.
Looking back now, I really do not know how I handled all that but I did. Did it help that I had started fatherhood late? Was it because I was older and strong enough to cope with the obstacles that came my way and say: “It is okay, it will get better.”
If I had been in my early 30s, would I have been able to sacrifice most of my time for my family? Would I immediately cancel an appointment with an old friend if I got an emergency call from my wife? Would I let go of the chance to go on another nature trip with my friends during the weekend? Would all this be a great loss to me? I really don’t know. Maybe God had a plan for me that I should marry late.
Our son and daughter are growing now, and I am enjoying every minute of it. There were times, though, when this “old” dad would beg his son for a time-out barely 30 minutes into dancing and twirling to Beauty And The Beast or struggle to get to his feet after sitting for an hour trying to fix a jigsaw with the kids.
Not forgetting too the countless reminders between my wife and me to take our health supplements if we want to see our children walk down the aisle one day!
I guess there is no “right” age to be a dad. It just happens and when it does, we can’t back out and say: “Hang on, I am not ready!” We just strive to be the best father we can be even though we may fall and stumble on this challenging yet wonderful journey.