We all have them.  Those events in our lives which prove to be pivotal and life-redefining as we move ahead.  They tend to be highly meaningful, important and very emotional (happiness or sadness).  For example, the loss of a close member of the family such as a parent or sibling, university graduation, getting married, getting divorced, you get the idea.

For my money, nothing comes close to having a child, irrespective what number he/she happens to be.  It is the single most overwhelming sensation that comes over you, dousing you with an intoxicating cocktail of feelings of shock, joy, pride, wonder, and resolve to love and protect this fragile small creature that nature has gifted you.

There is no question that the mother who bears and gives birth to the child will have done and will continue to take the majority of responsibility and the bonding that forms between mother and child cannot be matched or replicated by the father; that’s what happens and as a father, the sooner you accept this reality with as much dignity as you can muster, the sooner you will learn how to play your parental part more effectively.

Being a father to three wonderful girls (Leila, Rosy and Faye), is the crowning achievement of my life.  All the other experiences were wonderful, shocking, happy, tragic, or self-fulfilling, pale into insignificance in comparison.  I was lucky enough to be present at the birth of all three girls and played my supporting role as best as I could.  Let’s face it, the role was barely more than a walk-on part nevertheless, hospital staff attending to Claire were magnanimous enough to let me stay, as long as I didn’t get in the way!

However, once we got home with our new pride and joy, I was able to make myself somewhat more useful than just being there on the pretext of providing Claire with moral support.  I was happy to do what I was told in terms of bottle feeding, changing of nappies, not-drowning the baby in the bath, etc.  I loved every precious minute of those duties.  As they grew older, I was there to be used as a climbing frame, mannequin, carrier, comforter, bedtime storyteller, feeder, cleaner and tickler.  I cherished that period too.  Then things got more complex and slightly beyond my set of skills.  They were growing into teenagers with all that period of development entails.  I had a pretty good idea what a teenage boy goes through, I was one in the distant past, but I was clueless regarding what teenage girls were like.  I now found myself being schooled by Claire almost on daily basis as to how I should deal with any of them and their mood swings.   Basically, I had to accept I was wrong about everything and do a great deal of listening and confirming that they were right all along.

I cannot say I was excellent, or even very good at it but, if they ever give prizes for trying hard, I might get one because I really wanted them to be happy, like me or even love me.  In my fantasy moments, I hoped they might even listen to some of my pearls of wisdom.

They continued to grow up, thankfully with much less drama than many other families experienced.  My love for them never dimmed and pride in them only grew stronger.  Then one day, they flew the nest and I had to commit the ultimate betrayal of actually driving them to their universities and leaving them behind at the mercy of all those evil people surrounding them.  It took every ounce of discipline not to turn the car round and take them home where they can be less educated but at least safe under our protection.

Then the strangest thing happened.  They grew up to being more beautiful, more sensitive, more compassionate, more caring about us, and less self-centred, to the point of almost attempting roles reversal and shock of all shocks, they were throwing back at me, with interest, all the worthy guiding principles and words of wisdom I had dished out to them over the years.  Hell, they even shared some (not all) of my tastes in music!

All of the above sounds like a happy little story which I can end here and now but where is the fun in that?  Nothing in life is that neat and tidy so, I am afraid there is more for you to read.  Not everyone can relate to the final part of this blog.  Only fathers of girls understand it at the instinctive and visceral level.

When each of our girls was delivered by the midwife, I was pleasantly surprised by what I call a sacred responsibility.  As soon as the baby was weighed, cleaned and wrapped in something warm, they got busy sorting Claire out and readying her to hold the baby.  The three or so minutes in between, the baby was thrust in my hands to hold her until Claire was ready.  Nothing, but nothing ever felt better or more precious than those few minutes, I was able to look into her eyes and tell her something totally spontaneous, vowing to give away my life protecting her and promising life-long commitment to her wellbeing.  As our eyes locked, even knowing the new-born cannot quite focus properly at this early stage, I still fell in love so deeply and irreversibly.  I was then instructed to take the child to her mother for the real business of parenting to begin.

As I stood there watching Claire greet her newborn, I realised that I was the first person to meet and instantly fall in love with this beautiful, perfectly formed few pounds of a human being; an honour no one can ever take away from me!

Many girls’ fathers find it hard to accept a new boyfriend/husband/life partner and some hide it better than others.  I too tried to hide it, but my daughters would probably say I was rubbish at that too.  To be perfectly truthful, I never got used to the idea, even when the boyfriend evolved into a life partner.  However, I grudgingly learnt to accept it with a modicum of dignity.

I am happy to say that I have learnt to get on well with my daughters’ partners and I curbed my animalistic tendencies to get into a fight-to-the-death with them, not least because any of them can see me off inside the first round.  Not to mention the fact that they are decent, honest and loving human beings.  Nevertheless, I still nurse this secret desire to do something childish and unlikely to bring harmony to our get-togethers.  I always feel like playing a song by Heartland called: I LOVED HER FIRST

Check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fV6fmBerRg

 

Mufid