In September of 2021 I had a newborn son. Henry.
3 months before that, I examined the Paternity leave policy at the company I was working for.
2 weeks
At the time, I thought to myself “Wow, what a luxury.”
I envisioned myself doing house projects, keeping everyone fed, and just generally managing our life while my wife Lauren focused on ensuring our baby thrived. The story I had in my head about the value of paternity leave was one about work. It was time I could use to adapt to the work needed to keep us afloat while we learned how to care for the newest addition to our family. Less sleep, more crying, more things to do. Life would get harder, and in exchange, paternity leave offered a window of time to adjust to the increased difficulty.
6 weeks before Lauren’s due date, we got thrown a curveball.
She woke me up just before 5:00 am. “I think my water just broke”, she said as I promptly transitioned from sleep to sitting. After she repeated this a few times as I fumbled with its meaning, we ultimately called her doctor to get some advice. The advice was short and sweet, and we began packing for the hospital.
After 3 nights of sleeping in a hospital room not designed for long-term guests, and 10 hours of Pitocin-fueled labor, Henry was born. Is there always this much blood? Apparently, yes. Moments later, he was whisked away to the NICU. Fortunately, Henry was healthy, but the protocol for all babies born at that stage of maturity is to spend time in the NICU to ensure their key functions are ready for the world outside the womb.
The doctor’s best estimate of the time Henry would need in the NICU?
2 weeks.
The Decision
I was at a crossroads. Do I start my 2-week paternity leave now, or do I try to continue working while Henry is in the NICU so I can use the time when he is out?
At the time, the decision felt easy. After all, paternity leave was about doing the work, right?
Henry was being professionally cared for 24/7. I mean, we would never have done this, but technically we could have left the hospital after my wife’s discharge and returned 2 weeks later as if it were the world’s costliest summer camp.
I believed the real work started when he came home. I needed to be husband, housekeeper, chef, and occasionally Dad while my wife learned how to be a new Mom and recovered from the trauma of childbirth.
I opted to continue working, to start my paternity leave on the day Henry came home with us rather than the day he was born.
Going Home Empty Handed
The first ride home from the hospital without Henry felt normal. Bad, but when you’re forced to leave your newborn behind at the hospital, bad feels normal. We stopped and got milkshakes to cheer ourselves up. We focused on the list of things to accomplish to get our home ready for our early arrival. We talked about how we’d visit frequently, and how he’d be home before we knew it.
The next day, I was confronted with the decision I’d made. My wife left for the hospital, and I sat down in my home office to begin the workday. What proceeded was unexpected.
Imagine you’re an astronaut living on the International Space Station, and for the first time in your career you’re asked to do an EVA. That is, to walk beyond the security of your pressure-controlled chambers and into the vacuum of space.
As you exit the pressure lock, you gaze upon the vastness of your universe, experiencing a sense of astonishment reserved for only the most profound human experiences. Viewing Earth from this perspective collides the majesty of the natural world against the triumph of science, and you feel connected to your home in a way you’ve never felt.
Then you realize your tether is broken.
You’re drifting. The distance between you and the space station is growing, and you have no means of changing course. Your life is only a few feet away, yet impossibly out of reach.
Without your tether, you’ve lost your connection. You’re suddenly alone.
The Spacewalk
Childbirth is wild ride. I have to believe there are only a few times in life that you so rapidly lurch between the extremes of fear, excitement, apprehension, love, and elation. In that way perhaps it isn’t too dissimilar from a spacewalk.
For me, the moments after Henry was born were some of the closest I’ve ever felt to my wife. For months we had worked together to prepare, to learn, to understand how we could be the best team in the parenting game. Giving birth to a healthy baby was the pinnacle of this achievement, and we were now connected for eternity by a shared life.
But then we had to leave him. And, as I sat down at my desk in the morning while Lauren sat down in the NICU just a few miles away, my tether broke.
Somewhere between building cribs and reading birthing books I had forgotten to consider the emotional and interpersonal impact of bringing a new member into our family. Doubt crept in. Would my wife’s love for our son replace her love for me? Am I even necessary in this equation? Will I grow to love him enough to feel included in the family, or will I always be the odd man out?
Perhaps it was a chemical come down from the adrenaline of a weekend at the hospital.
Perhaps it was some form of male post-partum depression.
Perhaps I just felt guilty about prioritizing work over being with my family.
The only thing I know for certain is that I was adrift, and crying.
When my wife returned home, we had a long talk. In the following days, I spent every moment I could with Lauren and Henry.
The Real Value of Paternity Leave
Turns out, I was wrong about paternity leave being about the work. It isn’t.
In hindsight, it feels foolish that I hadn’t considered the emotional aspect of bringing a new member into our family. But in reality, it just never came up.
In all my pre-childbirth preparation, nothing seemed to warn of the emotional challenges a father might face. And this isn’t entirely surprising. In our society, it’s common for the emotional well-being of men to be neglected. This issue is compounded within a scenario like childbirth where women bare the full force of what looks and sounds a bit like a car crash. It’s entirely appropriate that the effects on the father aren’t in focus.
My hope with this piece is to act as a warning to Dads I never got. Introducing a new family member isn’t all roses. There may be moments where you feel alone, where you feel uncertain, unworthy and of little value. You may not feel the love for your new team member right away. There is no silver bullet to remedy these feelings, but it will all be easier if you’re able to stay close.
Paternity leave is your tether. It is the tool you use to stay connected to your world when you’re forced to step out into space and confront all the challenges that go with it. It is the mechanism to protect you from drifting, and it provides the time you need to invest in finding your home in your new family. In my experience, finding this time in the days and weeks after such a momentous event is critical for your emotional well-being.
So if you’re able, take the time you have and stay tethered in. Embrace togetherness, and let the chores and work come secondary.