Being a Dad, Fifteen Months and Counting….

Fear, happiness, excitement, humility, relief and wonder are just a few of the emotions that flooded my fragile caffeine fuelled consciousness when Louise finally delivered our first-born Child on November 13th, 2011. Her name is Amélie Rose and when she made her belated entrance into my life, I knew that her steely little gaze had changed me forever. I didn’t know how or why then, but fifteen months on, I think I am beginning to understand.

The nineteen-hour drudgery that my wife endured to give birth on her own terms, drug-free and without surgery, was quite simply astonishing. The constant pain from labour had Louise drifting in and out of consciousness and yet somehow she remained calm, focused and purposeful throughout. I left that hospital feeling well and truly humbled and with a newfound respect for the sense of determination, endurance and will to survive displayed by my Wife and by my little baby Daughter. Everything I had achieved to-date paled into insignificance and left me feeling utterly vulnerable and yet strangely complete.A contradiction you may feel? Indulge me...

How do I begin to explain ‘that’ feeling of the vulnerability?

As human beings, we are not always aware of our own vulnerabilities because it is in our nature to hide them while we compensate and evolve to overcome them. Evolution has taught us this much as there isn’t a member of the animal kingdom that strives to feel exposed or helpless. Animals and indeed people strive constantly to adapt, overcome, survive and prosper. Darwin gives a much more eloquent explanation than I "Intelligence is based on how efficient a species became at doing the things they need to survive" - Darwin. 



Back to my earlier point - I was quite efficient before Amélie's arrival. Life was simple. I worked hard, learnt from my mistakes and treated people how I would like to be treated. I did what I wanted when I wanted and I had very little fear of failure. I had no reason to. I am, after all, a confident and capable person whose character has endured a number of life’s harsh examinations.

Amongst the many comparatively trivial hardships that come with growing up on a council estate, I had to deal with the loss of my father at the tender age of thirteen. This experience tore me apart and yet it rebuild me into the man I am today. I survived and as a result of this, I lived life fairly philosophically, believing that nothing much could ever hurt me as much as that news that had brought me to my knees on May 8th 1994. This is, of course, is another way if saying, I didn't allow myself to care about anything enough. Many people who have experience trauma go through life in the same way. It's a defence mechanism and an effective one.

Amélie’s arrival, of course, shattered my self made the illusion of invincibility...

At first, I struggled. I don’t mind admitting that. Being a Husband and a Father is a tough gig and delicate balancing act, especially when you have an ambitious career path and plenty of academic and sporting interests that demand time. Add to all this the unpredictability of emotional vulnerability and you have the perfect cocktail for burnout!

Every cold Amélie picked up would drive me to worry. I worried more about Louise’s when she fell ill; I even worried about my own health! I was so afraid of the possibility that something bad could happen to my girls that I was living life constantly on the edge of panic. Not good for me and certainly not good for my girls but thankfully I quickly began to make sense of it all.

So that’s the vulnerability part explained, where is the completeness?

Well, it's hard to explain simply without sounding crude or cliché, but living life without vulnerability is a bit like riding a rollercoaster that only goes up– this kind of roller coaster is relatively pointless and desperately predictable. You can ride it for a while but eventually, you will feel like something is missing.

Accepting vulnerability is to accept happiness. To be happy is to be vulnerable. They are not mutually exclusive; they are necessary and equal for one another to matter. Amélie may worry me every time she gets a cold or bumps her head (and I doubt this will ever change) but she is just as likely to amaze me with her first steps or her first words and what is more amazing is that she is totally unique. She has her own path to find and Louise and I have front row seats from which to encourage and applaud her as she grows and discovers her own vulnerabilities.

Nothing is the same anymore and I wouldn’t want it to be!

On reflection, I am not sure this was meant to be the point of my blog. I set out to talk about my first year of being a Dad. I expected to be writing about all the cute things Amélie has done and all the light-hearted parenting mistakes I had made, but frankly, I have accidentally discovered how the meaning of my life has changed through the rediscovery of my vulnerabilities. Yes, people, Craig got deep again (what did you expect - it's me).

This might sound crazy but I can honestly say that it has opened up a completely new and unknown chapter in my life with more dimensions and depth than I previously imagined possible. This analogy stands true outside of parenting too. Try it on for size: Do not forsake your passions in an effort to hide from vulnerabilities – accept them, understand them and let them help you discover happiness you never thought possible.

Thanks for Reading,

Chancey