Holy Crap, I'm a Dad, Week 1

I don't get nervous very often.  Even though I'm not very confident, I don't typically get really nervous doing a lot of things most people get nervous doing.  Speeches, tests, things like that - I mean yeah, I get nervous, but not to the point most people do.  Typically, I only get nervous in social situations because my self-esteem is low enough I might accidentally step on it, and I feel like I'm going to be tripping over myself.

But when they took my girlfriend into the operating room to give her the epidural, the nervousness shot through the roof.  My stomach tightened and I had this sinking feeling that made me regret the bacon and egg taco and single sip of coffee I had had that morning.  That clock ticked by so slowly.  And there were no distractions.   I tried to read a few articles from cracked.com, but as I read, I could only think "baby baby baby baby funny phallic joke on the internet baby baby baby baby baby."  And that was it.  Oh, and  it didn't help that I heard some lady screaming to her chosen deity over and over again from pain and I had NO WAY of knowing if that was my lady.  So yeah, to recap: extreme nerves, nausea, ineffective dick jokes (that would otherwise be hilarious), and random screaming lady scaring the living shi uh...lights out of me. On a side note, to Random Screaming Lady, if you're reading this (I'm being so vague that there's no way to know if it's you) I hope all of whatever pain you were feeling is gone, I wish you a speedy recovery, and the best for you and your newborn.

And then, all the nerves went away when I heard my newborn cry for the first time.  Everything changed then.  The nurse had me get so many pictures of my tiny, five-pound, fifteen ounce baby.  Then they wheeled us out to recovery, then our suite we would stay in that day.  The rest of that day was a blur of visiting family, nurses in-and-out, and learning how to take care of the baby.  

Yes, I did say learning how to take care of the baby.  Here's the thing: in the last post, I mentioned that I am exceedingly uncomfortable around infants - from that, you can accurately infer that I had no idea how to take care of one either, but not for the lack of people trying to teach me.  My mom would always try to get me to learn to change a diaper, or to feed a baby, telling me "you'll have to learn when you have your own kids."

And to that, I'd always say "Yeah, and when that day comes, then I'll learn."  

......Aaaaaaaaaand that never happened.  Even when my girlfriend was pregnant, I never took the opportunity to learn.  So, at the moment of my daughter's birth, my baby-taking-care-of statistics were:

Diapers changed: 0

Bottles fed: 0

Baby's burped: 0

Baby's cradled:  I dunno, like, 3?

Baby's cradled successfully (success being measured by the baby calming down):  1

See the pattern?  Very limited experience with babies.  So the nurses had a lot of teaching to do.  And they did so marvelously.  By the first few hours, I could change a diaper like a boss, bottle feed like a gangsta, and cradle like a pro.  Here's one piece of information that nobody bothered to share with me that freaked me out and surprised me:

Newborn poop looks like tar.  Seriously.  I mean it.  Go look at the tar on the highway, photoshop some brown into it, and bam: newborn poop.  At least that's what I, and all the nurses I brought this thought up to, thought it looked like.  

Fast forward a few days, and it's a Sunday night, and we're already home.  The baby started crying.  I went to go change her, she was clean.  My girlfriend and I tried to feed her - she didn't want food.  We tried singing, cradling, we tried everything we could think of, and nothing seemed to work.  Yet, as soon as my mom gets the baby in her arms, she gets my daughter to stop crying in the matter of seconds.

Guys, and future parents, let me tell you something:  I've been through some pretty bad stuff, most of which I don't think I'll ever go into detail about on here.  But the absolute worst feeling I have ever felt is the feeling I got when I couldn't calm my baby down, even a little.  It's an absolutely terrible feeling, and it makes you feel inadequate.  From what I'm told, this "baby won't stop crying the first night they're at home" thing happens a lot.  That's just your baby not being used to the new smells, sounds, and general atmosphere of that house after they'd been in the hospital literally all of their life.  

Here's some things that help: talk around your baby in your normal tone frequently, even if there's no one around.  That'll establish a feeling of normality.  Talk to your baby while they're crying, but try not to talk over them.  If you do, they'll cry louder.  Lastly, be patient, and try not to get frustrated.  Psychological research shows that babies are mind readers.  Not literally, but they are incredible at reading facial expressions and vocal tone - it's a survival instinct.  When you're upset, it gives them reason to be upset.  If your baby won't stop crying, gently lay them down somewhere safe, or leave them with your partner, leave the room briefly to regain your composure, then come back and try again.  

That first week is SOOOO much learning about your baby, and so much adjusting to things like lack of sleep, which I'll get to next entry.  

Now, my daughter will be two weeks old tomorrow, which is Thursday, but I could be pretty busy tomorrow.  Keep in mind that any advice or information that I offer on this blog was either taught to me or something I learned on my own that works for my daughter, being offered as I'm learning it, so it may not work for you.

Please, any readers, share this with friends and family.  Thank y'all for reading.

-Jack, the Dude Dad.