Who is Raising Whom?

                                        Who Is Raising Whom?
                                                    By
                                      Benjamin Barak Andrews

    The birth of our child was a life-changing event. I had seen it in movies and heard it from friends, but only experience made me truly understand. Preparation for the moment itself was an adventure. Trying to breach the gap of the unknown, I read books, watched educational videos, attended classes, and listened to everyone’s opinions. As my wife began to show, even strangers were suddenly friendly and conversational. It was as if they felt closer to us, now that we were doing our part for the propagation of the race, but all this merely foreshadowed what was to come.
    As a father to be, I felt I understood what pregnancy and birth were about. My wife would get bigger; she would have emotional ups and downs, and then give birth to a crying, pooping, peeing, eating machine. With her taking the lead in caring for the newborn, my role would be relatively simple. Little did I know!
    True comprehension unfolded during labor. I stood helplessly, by my wife’s side, witnessing her unbearable pain. All I could do was utter pathetic words of comfort and endure the crushing force of her vise-like grip. Life was delivering something bigger than both of us, and I had no control. I felt insignificant, yet alive. I never could have imagined that weakness and power could share the same moment.
    As soon as little Xander’s head poked out, the universe changed. It was as if he came into focus and everything else blurred. Athletes sometimes call it ‘being in the zone’, where everything seems to slow a bit.  Even the previously viewed grossness of blood, amniotic fluid, and placenta suddenly seemed totally natural. Then reality set in.
    The first few weeks were a blur. Exhaustion took over and our bodies slipped into survival mode. The baby was emotionally all over the place. In this new world, everything was life or death. Communication was through crying. It was weeks before he learned any control over his feelings. An internal clock yet to be set, equaled no sleep for anyone in the house. ‘Walking zombie’ is a term I will forever understand.
    Once we survived this initial stage, life slowly came into routine. Baby eats, plays, poops, sleeps, and then repeats the cycle.  We quickly learned multi-tasking is a must. Without this skill you are doomed. Babies need constant attention, but things still have to get done. Following a feeding, napping and play schedule, daily planning becomes vital. Even a trip to the store can seem an epic journey.
    Not long after Xander was born, I became familiar with a new enemy, Murphy’s Law. Murphy was an optimist when he said if anything could go wrong, it would.  If a baby can find the one item that will damage him or his surroundings, guess what, he will. Not long ago, I put Xander on the bed. It was covered with toys, blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. But I had accidentally left a pen on the bed. Of course, within a matter of seconds he found the pen. Yet to learn control of his motor skills, he jabbed himself. The ensuing wail was heartbreaking. Occurrences such as this only happen once, before you find yourself double checking everything.  Damn that Murphy!
    Before I knew it Xander suddenly had personality. His eyes started grasping concepts and ideas. Then the firsts start. First laugh, first hug, first roll. Xander’s first laugh was so pure and innocent I couldn’t help but feel emotional. Every discovery he makes, feels as if it’s shared. The trust and sincerity in his every action is unlike anything I have ever felt. The simplest things become so special. One pure look from him says, “Dad you are the world to me”. It wasn’t long before I was experiencing my own rebirth. I saw the world as I did so long ago.
    At this point it only gets worse. It seems everyday Xander does something that tugs at my heart.  I find myself going into his room, to check on him, for no good reason. He makes me feel needed and important, a feeling that grows stronger everyday. When he falls or hurts himself, it almost feels as if I experience the pain. The only thing that makes me feel better is to hold him tight and tell him everything is okay.
    Amidst all this focus on Xander, I started noticing something else. It was hard to place at first, but one day staring into the mirror, I realized it was me that was different.  I felt more complete. A lot of my behaviors had changed. I found myself saying things like, “that’s so cute”, and holding stereotypical parent conversations. Topics that I know for a fact I had once made fun of were suddenly coming out of my mouth. Everything Xander did had to be documented or videotaped. I can now say I understand what it feels like to be a parent.
      I can only speak from my limited experience, but so far the newborn stage is very fulfilling. Just watching him is the coolest thing. Seeing him grow in these early months has been nothing less than spiritual. In the ninth month of Xander’s life, I have come to understand one thing better than all else. As much as I am raising and teaching him, really it’s the other way around. He is helping me reach my fullest. I find myself changing and learning everyday. There is so much I would have never seen in myself, had I not experienced fatherhood.  As I watch him grow, I am adapting and changing every day. Xander is teaching me to be a dad, and so far I love every moment of it. Even the poopy diapers are somehow less evil.