Postpartum Puzzle

In the interest of being a better father, one of the more important things is being a better husband/partner. I regret that in my younger years I was unaware of how traumatic pregnancy and childbirth can be and was mostly, out of ignorance, unsupportive and very confused about the entire process, before and after. Most of these things are, after all , a mystery to us men.

And though I know many fathers would gladly step in to take the pain from their children, their wives, their loved ones, in moments suffering, it isn’t our lot nor is it our ability to do so. We must stand aside and watch as the women we love suffer through much of this ordeal. Empathy is a quality learned and honed and now is as good a time as ever to do so. You’ll need this tool in your arsenal going forward.

To enlighten the newer fathers or fathers-to-be, I will use my most effective tool. Humor. Because, my young friend, you will need it. A lots of it. Because there will be none in your home, possibly, save the new bundle of joy that comes with the package. You won’t understand, still, because you’re younger and haven’t lived life and if I’m honest, I can understand a lot of the issues that pregnancy and childbirth result in, though I can hardly relate to them. They’re an alien concept to the male of the species.

First, and foremost is hormones. Oh, they be raging. Unbeknownst to most people, Dr, Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was originally inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson’s wife’s pregnancy. The true experience, however, makes this lighthearted tale seem a comedy. Having never personally experienced the effects of these hormonal fluctuations I’d be lying if I tried to describe them. Suffice to say that a loving, caring and smiling woman can go into a room and exit a homicidal wreck or a weeping mess. You, being unprepared for this and, since you’ve been the center of her world for years, will assume it’s aimed at you.

That’s because it is. And it’s not because you did anything or didn’t do anything. It’s because……….reasons. What can you do? Likely nothing. Picture Captain Dan yelling at the storm from the mast top in Forrest Gump and you’ll be close to the idea of how fruitless it is for you to try to fix this. You can’t. This is your boot camp into fatherhood. Embrace the suck my man.

There’s fatigue. And that should be understandable to us all. However, this is one area I can perfectly relate to those in my gender spectrum. You’re (statistically) the breadwinner and working a 40 or more and the house is a wreck and then comes a kid and there’s more and more and more and more work in what seems like a never ending escalation of your duties. I get it. Again, suck it up. She carried, or is carrying, a several pound being that is sucking all the nutrients and absorbing most of the caloric intake that she can muster. If your laundry isn’t done then tough it out, champ. You can work the washing machine. (Warning: DO NOT TOUCH HER CLOTHES WITHOUT PERMISSION). Some women have an alchemy to washing clothes that rivals the process for creating nuclear weapons so unless you’re specifically instructed to, do not throw her unmentionables into the wash with your dirty jeans. (See:Hormones). You can clean. You can learn to make dinner or bathe the baby. If you’re of this hyper-masculine train of thought that such things are beneath you then not only are you mistaken about your masculinity, you’re mistaken about your humanity and decency as well.

Now, if you’ve a weak stomach, then skip this paragraph. Her body is betraying her. It’s doing things I still shudder about. It’s doing things that are freaking her out. Her vagina, vulva, pelvic floor (see, you’re cringing already), bowels, stomach and bladder are either one, a combination therein, or all are acting up and if I have to explain to you how this would be upsetting then go shotgun about 7 Red Bulls and down and bottle of laxative, followed by a Immodium chaser and you won’t be even close. Likely they don’t want to discuss what’s going on, and trust me, nor do you. Just do what you can to be supportive and leave the rest to medical professionals.

Her stomach will be weak, she can’t lift. She’ll have stretch marks (likely) and maybe varicose veins, the hormones are causing acne and dry skin and the same person that a few months ago was posting Insta photos of her bouncing on the beach in a thong is now hissing at you when you turn on the lights or attempt to enter the bathroom while she showers.

Their hair falls out and their teeth are weakened and more susceptible to cavities. The list is endless. And if by now you’re frowning and thinking ‘what the hell?"‘, good. It’s a lot to take in. Add to this now she has the responsibility of a new being that may feed off her hourly and sleep is a commodity that can’t be bought or stolen, only borrowed in minutes at a time while this new creature acclimates to the world and you’re starting to get the picture.

There’s blood and mucus and fluids that I don’t know the name of coming from this woman you call you’re other. It’s scary to her, it’s terrifying to you. And it’s so alien that you’re struggling to grasp the 180 degree turn in which life has taken in these short 9 months plus. Fight or flight kicks in and that’s where you, as a father, can put on the brakes and cool your jets. You don’t need to understand what’s going on, you just need to understand that she’s panicking, suffering and scared.

Then there’s postpartum depression which is no joking matter. Your tools here are empathy, understanding and an ear to bend and a shoulder to lean on. And it may go further than that if the depression is severe. If so, seek help.

The very least you can be is supportive and understanding through all of this. You can help. And yeah, we’re tired too. I get it. Dad’s don’t get many breaks, I know. We work then we come home and want to resume our lives that isn’t ours anymore because things have changed now. They’ll resume. Later. Golf will still be there. The gym will be open at 4 am. You can read after they go to sleep. You can learn to cook and clean. Everything will get done, it’ll just be exhausting.

She’s been in a ringer that we, as men, will never be able to relate to or experience. And her reward, in the near term, is that her body, her hormones and her world seem to turn against her. Your job is to be the rock that remains.

You’re both going to suffer. And you can choose to suffer together, to strengthen that bond between you or you can choose to demonstrate that in her moments of greatest need you were thinking about yourself. I’ve done both. For one I am proud, for the other I am ashamed. You will fail too. Those things can be reversed with a healthy dose of empathy, understanding and support.

And, in the simplest terms she has suffered and sacrificed and endured a monumental amount of pain ushering that child into the world. For nine long tedious months she carried the new meaning of your life in her stomach, all youre being asked to do is put a little more on your shoulders.

You can do it, Dad.