The conclusion to our writer’s saga of contemporary fatherhood, where all is revealed and most are forgiven, including a postscript with advice for new parents.
Surviving the delivery is one thing; living through weeks of midnight feedings, particularly when emergencies strike, is much worse. Our writer discovers the ancient conspiracy that keeps expectant parents in the dark.
Finally, it’s time. Mommy’s off to the hospital, and Daddy, after months of careful training, completely forgets what he’s supposed to do. The newest chapter in our writer’s saga of contemporary paternity.
The baby’s late. Life is hell. When the neonatalist tells him to relax and make love, is our writer, the contemporary father, prepared to take his sensible advice? No. Of course not. Resume panic.
Striving to be a good father also means being a good husband. And while co-attending birthing classes is a smart idea, our writer learns that springing a surprise baby shower—and not warning his wife about the stain on her top—is not.
When a child is on the way, the last months can seem agonizingly slow. So does it help, when you’re finally ready, to have your mother suggest you and your wife are ambivalent about the whole baby thing?
As the big day nears, anxieties grow sharper, and even a bad episode of ER becames fraught with symbols. Add in a business trip halfway across the world—can our almost-father handle the stress?
Pregnant mothers have extraordinary needslove, support, removal of strangely repugnant odorsbut it’s the fathers who are needy. Another chapter in our writer’s illustrated chronicle of worry.
Discovering the sex of your unborn child is a cause for celebration, and then baskets of new and unexpected anxieties. A new chapter in our writer’s pursuit of fatherhood.
Your child’s tastes—for a particular brand of peanut butter, or milk, or religion—are up for grabs once she’s out of the womb. But what happens if she turns into a Knicks freak, Mr. No-Sports-Knowledge-Whatsoever? More notes on our writer’s long nine months.
Our children are unique composites of our genes and our mate’snoses, hairlines, and tennis serves. Unfortunately, the kid can also get saddled with Uncle Tom’s halitosis. Another installation in our writer’s saga of birth.
Part of becoming a father is accepting responsibility for how another person turns out. But can you hold your own family responsible too? And is it smart to gather them all on a cruise to find out? Our writer continues his illustrated saga.