The Surreal Journey of Becoming a Parent

In February, I shared a timeline of my upcoming book launch, which coincided with the birth of my first child. The plan was to promote the book, take a breather, and then dive into parenthood. Those two weeks between the book launch and the baby's arrival were crucial. The night before the launch was a sleepless marathon, but the relief of completion was short-lived as my wife's water broke the next day. The drive to the hospital was surreal, lacking the drama I had imagined. Once there, we faced the reality that the baby had to come out due to the risk of infection.

The labor process was nothing like I expected. Instead of chaos, it was a calm wait for contractions to start, aided by Pitocin. My role was to hold a leg during contractions, a task that seemed futile until the nurse announced it was time to deliver. The moment my daughter was born was surreal, like meeting a tiny alien.

Three months into fatherhood, I've realized several things. Newborns are not the babies I imagined; they're more like bizarre larvae, born prematurely due to evolutionary constraints. The lack of mandatory training for new parents is astonishing, considering the knowledge required to care for a newborn. Babies' heads are disproportionately large, and their reactions to basic needs are dramatically intense. The relationship with a newborn is one-sided; they offer no feedback to the love and care given.

Parenthood disrupts any semblance of a schedule, and it's impossible to objectively assess your baby's cuteness. Observing my baby's struggle with motor skills has made me appreciate my own abilities. Becoming a parent is a gradual process, not an overnight transformation. The enormity of the decision to have children is personal and should not be influenced by others.

Having a child forces you to ponder the future. Our world is unpredictable, and my daughter might face a vastly different reality than mine. These reflections make the discussions about the future more poignant.