And Baby Makes Three

On 29 July, the loud cries of a 2.9 kilogram baby boy being wheeled out of a delivery suite changed my status from being a husband to being a father as well. It was surreal - like one of those out-of-body experiences so many people talk about. It was so overwhelming that when the doctor examining him asked me if I'd like to carry my son, the only words that came out were "Maybe later". That, of course, prompted a very disgusted look from him!

It's not like I didn't know we were going to have a baby. We actually found out sometime in December last year. My father was seeking treatment and therapy overseas for his spine condition at that time and he was the first person I called to share the news with. My father had a way of hiding his excitement, perhaps his way of not betraying his cool exterior. But this time, he could not hide his true emotions with just his casual "Very good! Congratulations!". You could not miss the happiness in his voice. Later, I heard from a relative, who was at the hospital at that time, that he told all the doctors, nurses, other patients and visiting friends and relatives about the news that day. Our relative described him as being "very very happy". This is the "recent development" I talked about in an earlier blog. Sadly, this happiness was short-lived for the both of us for he suffered a massive stroke a few days later and died after a couple of weeks, never to be able to meet and get to know his grandson.

I always imagined that when I had a child, my father would be there to show me the ropes. Why? Because he was a top-notch Dad. He always knew what to do or what to say in any situation. He always had a way of making me feel good about myself even though I knew I messed up. He always made sacrifices for his son when the need arose. I always wanted to know how he did it - what made him a fantastic father. More importantly, I wanted to learn from the best. Today, as I write this sitting across from my son's crib, I wonder if I can be a fantastic father, much like my own was, to him. I wonder if I can care for him unconditionally like my father did all these years. I wonder if I can make sacrifices for him. I guess the only answer to that is love.

When he was born, he looked up to me and cried his lungs out. That's what babies do when they're introduced to their new world for the first time. He wailed and stared at this "stranger" whom he was placing his life and future in the hands of. For me, I knew that from the minute he was born, I was responsible for comforting his every cry, pain or suffering. The thing is, we have a long road to travel together. We have to get to know each other. We have to understand each other and most importantly, we have to grow to love and respect each other more and more everyday.

Truthfully, I am not sure if I felt even a little "fatherly love" in my heart when my son and I first met at the hospital minutes after he was born. At that moment, I wasn't sure if I'd ever feel it. For this, I really wish my father was at my side to share his wisdom about fatherhood. But I realised in the next few days that I was not as unfeeling as I thought I was - because love filled my heart when he gripped my finger and stared at me with big innocent eyes two days later. I guess it was his way of saying that he needed me to be there for him always and at the same time reassuring me that he had faith in me being a good Daddy.

Premster Jr and I are both vulnerable at this point. But his grip symbolised our first handshake between father and son, sealing a pact that we would be there for each other every step of the way. We'll both make mistakes along life's rocky path but I hope that we will learn from them and that it'll strengthen our bond. I look forward to teaching him what I've learnt in life but what I am most excited about is when the teacher becomes the student - in my greying years, that is. I hope it'll excite him as well.

The circle of life carries on and I know that it is with my father's blessings. I hope I'll do both my father and my son proud.