Children have an uncanny way of both refining and complicating marriages. Mine is no exception. When my wife and I had our son, the days filled with laughter were as many as the days filled with frustration and tears. As I reflect on my fatherhood journey and particularly those months as a new father, here are 10 things I should have done differently.
1. Physically Present, Mentally Absent
Mental absence gradually fractures families.
As we hadn’t planned to get pregnant, it took me a while to come to terms with the reality of becoming a new father. This was difficult to divulge to my wife, who also had her own struggles. My wife and I were on the cusp of completing our studies. With our son screaming night and day—and us none the wiser as to why—escapism was inescapable. Thus, I frequented my mental space more than my physical one, always being mindful not to stress my wife out. But mental absence gradually fractures families.
2. Attending to My Studies, Not to Antenatal Classes
Antenatal classes were designed for both parents to attend, assuming that both parents are alive. However, in the Ugandan context, men are expected to continue to work and provide, leaving their pregnant wives to attend those classes and visits alone. Moreover, new mothers are expected to return to their mothers or mothers-in-law to receive all the care they need when they ‘put to bed’.
Antenatal classes were designed for both parents.
But my situation was different. As students in a foreign land, with no family nearby, I would have greatly benefited from those classes. For instance, I had no idea how to give a newborn a bath. Neither did I have the faintest idea about what caring for a new mother entailed.
3. Naming Is Fine, (Just) Not the Name I Chose
I underestimated the importance of discussing and agreeing on names with my spouse. I always felt as though I had more time until our gynaecologist inquired about the baby’s names on the labour ward. We had a few suggestions, but hadn’t settled on any, including my son’s middle name, Uvukile. Uvukile is Zulu for “the resurrected one” or “the one who is awake.” I partly chose it because he was always active while in the womb. I thought I was being smart. Until our son, now nearly two years old, diligently lives up to his name. Imagine my wife, who loves her sleep, putting “the one who is awake” to sleep.
4. More Pressure, No Prayer
My prayer life plummeted in the wake of busyness, both with my studies, and supporting my wife and son. Each day was as difficult as it could get. The Bible became a textbook I consulted for my academic assignments, rather than God’s word intended to nourish my soul.
Prayerlessness is a sign of pride. Prayerfulness is a sign that we depend on God
It was Tim Challies’ book Do Better, A Practical Guide to Productivity that helped me gradually reorient my life. Challies writes that “it is more than important to pray.” Prayerlessness is a sign of pride. Prayerfulness is a sign that we depend on God and acknowledge his sovereignty. Family pressures can destabilise our prayer life; God revitalises us through his word and prayer.
5. Overly Critical, Less Emotional
Being critical is not a bad practice until it robs one of having meaningful conversations. Often, my wife needed someone to speak to about the chaos—not a sparring partner. At the end of what I had considered a great conversation, she would say, “All I needed was someone to talk to.” Those words were poignant.
For fathers reading this, not just new ones, our speech should be gracious and seasoned with salt (Colossians 4:6). I didn’t realise that my listening to her well was her place of solace—an oasis. Fathers, listening well is seasoning our speech with salt. Be gracious.
6. Wife Fell Sick, Didn’t Pause Studies
Just as sanity had begun to return to our household, my wife fell ill, approximately four months after delivery. At the time, I had less than two months to complete my studies. One of my professors rightly advised me to pause my studies. However, I was so fed up with the frenetic routine of my studies that I was determined to finish. This dogged determination amid trying times left me spiritually and mentally dilapidated.
Personal achievements at the cost of family aren’t worthwhile.
While I managed to complete my studies eventually, the stress I endured had a ripple effect and family, too, reaped its bountiful harvest. Personal achievements at the cost of health and family are not worthwhile in the long run. Whereas hard work and determination are commendable, they can be perilous if they push one to the brink of burnout.
7. Needed Support, Didn’t State What Kind
I assumed the sort of support I needed was obvious to my immediate community, especially when my wife was hospitalised. I was abruptly left alone with my 4-month-old boy, and an overwhelm of academic tasks. As a man, I had resolved to mechanically hustle my way through the tribulations. Only to a few friends, who persisted in asking, did I clearly communicate the kind of support I needed. Several of them came to my rescue.
It is imperative to ask for help when you need it. Because you will.
Sometimes, fathers do not know when they need support. That does not mean we do not need help. But most of the time, until you explicitly say it, you are not saying it. So, fathers, it is imperative to ask for help when you need it. Because you will.
8. Meeting Deadlines at the Cost of Sleep
Becoming a father entrenched my already unhealthy sleeping patterns. Prior to having a child, my sleep habits were poor—I often went to bed quite late in the night. Neither was I intentional at cultivating healthy sleeping patterns. My mentor once advised me to study diligently, but also to remember that sleep is equally important. As the Psalmist writes, toil but sleep (Psalms 127:2). Although difficult at first, I began to prioritise rest because my family depended on my well-being.
Good sleep allowed me to care for those under my care.
Canadian clinical psychologist Jordan Peterson writes that when we cultivate healthy sleeping patterns, “the body, with its various parts, functions like a well-rehearsed orchestra.” Good sleep allowed me to care for those under my care more effectively.
9. Focused on Our Son, Forgot my Wife
There’s an irrepressible allure that babies hold over adults, especially their parents. The cute little outfits add a special magic to this charm. I, like most of my family, friends and random people walking on the street fell prey to my son’s beauty. He gradually took the centre stage to the extent that I often forgot about my wife and her emotional needs.
However, this does not bode well for marriages because babies grow into children, and this captivating and demanding phase only lasts until they are more independent and eager to explore the world on their own. Children will grow up and eventually leave the nest, yet your spouse will remain. Thus, a diligent and intentional attention to your relationship with your spouse, especially with a demanding schedule of raising little ones, cannot be exaggerated.
10. My Wife Read on Motherhood, I Read Nothing on Fatherhood
As a new father, I believed my experiences were unique to me. Already, anyone asking how I was doing was a rarity. As a result, I felt no need to read or talk about how to manage certain expectations and fears associated with becoming a new father. I found it more beneficial to learn about my wife’s experiences and expectations, as that was what most people were interested in. I could wing it alone, I thought. Only that left me alone, wrestling with my thoughts.
I believed my experiences were unique to me.
I was already struggling academically, and the weight bent me double. But I’ve come to learn that fathers should not father alone. We should father in community, as this has a way of redeeming and replenishing joy. Perhaps reading about my mistakes is a helpful place to begin.
In Conclusion
Mistakes are an inescapable part of what it means to be human. They are a part of God’s story of sanctification. As C. S. Lewis puts it, even the unpleasant things are part of our “real” life—the life God sends us day by day. New fathers, may we remember this through our mistakes.
