“I’m pregnant!”
Those words overflowed me with pure joy when I heard them. After several months of trying, the realization that we were going to be parents felt like an incredible dream come true. It's astounding to reflect on how just a few years ago, those very words would have elicited an entirely different response from me. Back then, I was convinced that I didn't want to have children. It's a sentiment I held as a fact for a significant portion of my life.
I've mentioned that this blog is also for people who, like me in the past, didn't want to be parents. I understand that everyone has their own unique reasons and perspectives, and I don't claim that my reasons are universal. For me, it became crucial to delve into the underlying reasons for these profound thoughts I had once chosen not to explore. I asked myself: Why did I change my mind? Why do I now eagerly anticipate becoming a parent? To find answers, I had to embark on a journey deep into my own childhood—a journey that continues as I strive to be the best father I can be to my son.
It wasn't that I didn't want children; it was that I was terrified of becoming a parent. This might not be a groundbreaking revelation, but reaching this understanding opened a new chapter in my life, one that I cannot close if I intend to be a good father. Why was I so afraid? Well, here comes another cliché response: I didn't know what it truly meant to be a father. My parents separated when I was very young, and my father wasn't as present in my life as I would have liked during my formative years. Fear often stems from the unknown, and I had no clue about the essence of fatherhood. Additionally, I had witnessed my mother facing numerous challenges while raising me and my older sisters, often on her own. So, not only did I lack understanding about fatherhood, but a part of me also resisted the idea of encountering the challenges my mother had confronted. More importantly, I didn't believe I could handle those challenges. Let's be honest, my mother was a true superhero. Eventually, delving deeper into these thoughts made me realize that I was perilously close to missing out on what has become the greatest experience of my life due to my fear of confronting the feelings and experiences of my own childhood.
It's important to note that I'm not placing blame on my parents, more specifically my father, for the fears that had gradually taken root within me. All things considered; I had a fairly wonderful childhood. Both of my parents, in their own ways, are great people who did their best to provide me with everything I needed, and often more than I needed. They instilled strong and valuable values in me, which I believe have contributed to me becoming a good person overall. My parents gave me countless moments of joy, but they were not infallible—no one is. Without intending to or even realizing it, some of their actions had less-than-ideal effects on me. I suspect this is true for most parents. If you were as fortunate as I was—and I sincerely hope you were—then the positive aspects of your upbringing far outweighed the negatives. What's crucial is being aware that not every action we take as parents will have a positive impact on our child's growth. It's all about awareness, consistently pondering and reevaluating: How can I improve? How can I preserve the wonderful aspects of my childhood while mitigating the not-so-great ones? How can I set the bar higher than my parents, and ensure that my child raises it even higher if he chooses to become a parent?
There are numerous avenues to explore in this endeavor. Shortly after my wife shared the news of our impending parenthood, I made a solemn commitment to delve deeply into my own childhood for the benefit of my child and myself. Thus, the journey began. As I continue to unearth the layers of my own childhood, I've come to realize that the role of a father is far from being well-defined. Although there's always room for improvement as parents, I believe the definition of a father's role is a very young one. It's an exhilarating journey ahead.