I don’t enjoy being a father.
I (35m), as the title said, do not enjoy being a father.
My wife and I had an incredibly challenging pregnancy. It took us a very long time to get pregnant and once we did I thought we’d crossed our biggest hurdle. However, at the scan where they determine gender we found out that our baby was abnormally small. Several weeks and numerous scans later we discovered there was a blood flow issue in the umbilical cord that was stunting proper growth. We immediately became a high risk pregnancy and had to start having scans weekly to ensure the baby could remain viable. I thought the entire time we would lose her. So outside my wife’s knowledge, I mourned her death. I would weep while driving to and from work so that I could eventually be strong for my wife when she needed it.
But thankfully that was never the outcome but our journey never got easier. We went from one scan a week to two. From two scans a week to three. Every scan every drive to the hospital was terrifying because we were told that eventually my wife would not be going home. That the baby would be so at risk that my wife would need to be admitted so they could monitor 24/7. Throughout this my wife got more and more depressed. All she wanted her entire life was to be a pregnant wife and have her own family. And I am getting more and more tired from being strong for her and helping her through this incredibly hard situation.
Eventually, the time came where at the scan the doctor said it was too risky to send her home and that she would need to be admitted. (I’m sure how many weeks my wife was pregnant would be helpful to the story but it just all kind of ran together at this point, but we were either at the very end of the second trimester or the very start of the third).
So my wife is admitted to the hospital and put on complete bed rest until it’s time to deliver. However, there is no estimate how long that will be. Unfortunately, I still needed to work. So every day I would wake up early, drive to the hospital to see my wife and be with her during the scan, go to work and work most of the day before I could leave, drive home to make sure the dog was okay and cook dinner, then straight to the hospital so I can eat with my wife and spend the evening before I could drive home and start the whole process again. We did this every day. Every day without knowing how long it would last. Every day not even knowing if our baby would even live through this whole process.
My wife spent over a month admitted to the hospital until one morning during the scan, the nurse sees something that concerns her. She looks at us, then steps outside as she pulls her phone out to call the doctor. A few heart stopping moments later there’s a team of people coming into the room. My wife is put on a magnesium drip and we’re told we are having the baby. A short emergency c-section later, our beautiful baby is born, two and a half months early, weighing just 1 pound and 10 ounces.
Fortunately, our time in the NICU was good. Our baby had no real complications and my wife was able to spend a lot of time with her. My routine continued though, wake up drive to the hospital to see the baby go to work, back to the hospital then home to sleep. 75 days after she was born we were finally able to bring our baby home.
Over a year later our baby is doing wonderful. She’s active and developing (still only 2% on the growth scale) but otherwise she’s fantastic.
My wife wants a second baby.
I’m just so tired. I cook all our meals. Every night when the baby wakes up I get up to comfort her because my wife can’t go back to sleep once she wakes up. I love my daughter but nothing about this is fun. I find no fulfillment in any of this. I thought it would change when she starting smiling, I thought it would change when she started babbling dada but it hasn’t. I would be devastated if anything happened to her but I also can’t imagine doing this again. Even a perfectly normal pregnancy gives me anxiety because I know how much more work it will be. How much less I would get to spend on my hobbies than I get to now. I know I’m being incredibly selfish.
But eventually, I know we will start trying again because it will make my wife happy.
My wife tells me that I’m the best husband she could ever imagine, that I’m the best father. I do everything I’m supposed to. But I’m not having any fun, I’m not enjoying it at all. I just don’t enjoying being a father and am dreading when we will start trying again.