At the time I was expecting the arrival of my son I was dealing with depression and anxiety. The thing that haunts me is that I missed out on so much in the beginning. My wife laments the fact that I was not able to be supportive during the latter stages of her first pregnancy, and during the beginning of my son's life. She and I both wondered at the time that I may have missed out on some crucial bonding period. For reference my son was born mid February of 2002.
During the first few weeks of Caleb's life I grew very weary of hearing: "Oh, you must be SOOOoo happy!", "I bet you feel so blessed!", "Isn't this the greatest moment in your life!". I could just scream. I didn't feel any of that. What I did feel was terror. My wife couldn't wait to leave the hospital and to take Caleb home. I, on the other hand, felt we could all just stay right there in the hospital until he was at least 5 or so. I knew deep down that once you leave and take them home, they don't let you bring them back.
And if my anxiety wasn't enough, I hated myself for feeling the way I did. I felt so ashamed to admit that I felt nothing for him after he was born. My wife, her parents, my parents, they were all instantly in love with him. I wasn't. I just didn't know how to love him. I couldn't really talk to him, he couldn't talk to me. There was no communication, no bond. He would eat, poop, and sleep, not much to work with. And what a cold hearted bastard that makes me. I still feel ashamed to even write this. How could I not love my own son? Would this haunt me for the rest of my life? Did I miss some window of opportunity of bonding?
The first couple of months were just exhausting. I severely underestimated the amount of work needed to take care of an infant, physical, mental, and emotional. After a few months he started to sleep through the night, and we felt like new people.
Time passed, I grew to be more comfortable with the logistics of being a dad. I got help for my depression and anxiety. And very slowly and very quietly I started to notice during the day at work I would miss Caleb. Each day it grew stronger, I missed being around him, I missed holding him and playing with him. Being only a few months old he still was not that much more interactive than at a few weeks old. However, for each day that would pass my missing him would grow stronger. What a pleasant surprise it was to discover a new love. It is nothing like the love that I have for friends, family, or wife. I can't really describe it.
He is 7.5 months old now. I love him more than I thought was possible. I can't wait to get home to see him. The hardest thing about taking night classes now is that I get home long after he has gone to bed, so for every day I have class is basically a day where I don't get to see him which really sucks. I look forward to every chance that I can get to spend time with him, and I am grateful for that time as well.
Now there still is a deep pang with in me, that can't wait until the day where he can say that he loves me. For now I am content with him just smiling when I come home, the tight grip than he can hold on my finger, or the way he holds my arm tight when I am carrying him. Sometimes he will just stare into my eyes. I really feel a bond when he does that. Yet it is always fleeting. He is always looking at the world around him. Like me, I guess he hates to be bored. I have learned to accept that my face may come second to a bright shiny object. But recently, I had a golden moment.
My wife and I spend most Sunday afternoons at her parent's house; they only live 10 minutes away. As usual her dad will turn on the stereo just for an aural background during dinner. A few Sundays ago he chose the new all '80's station. I love '80's music. After dinner while everyone was cleaning up, I took Caleb into the living room and sat in a chair closest the stereo. The volume was loud enough to push away all other noises. And one of my all time favorite songs came on. A song that I am just compelled to sing along to every time I hear it: "Steppin Out" by Joe Jackson, came out in 1983 I think. I had Caleb standing on my lap, and as usual he was looking about the room. When I started to sing along, he stopped and stared right at me. Through out the entire song, he held his gaze into my eyes. His expression seemed to suggest awe and wonder and he had the cutest little smile. I wanted that song to last forever. That moment marks one of the highlights of my life.
J Ian Wilson
3 - october - 2002