Becoming a Father #1: Day and Night
March 16, 2025
Preface: Last week, my wife (Cassidy) and I became parents! While I plan on writing more extensively about our time at the hospital, this series is intended to process stray thoughts and memories as they happen.
Here are a few notes from our first few days home with our son, who I refer to as ‘A’. (Perhaps we'll call the second and third ‘B’ and ‘C’?)
Sleep Deprivation
Prior to the absolute fiasco that is having a child, I struggled with any less than seven hours of sleep.
In our first week with ‘A’, we averaged 1-2 hours of sleep per night. In spite of this, I found myself alert, awake, unable even to even fall asleep during the day.
Something changed biologically. It’s as though my body shot me up with steroids. One hour of sleep, combined with the adrenaline of parenting, and I could crush household chores that six-hours-of-sleep George would only dream of.
I will likely regret saying this, but sleep deprivation is a non-issue, for now. Will it catch up with me? Sure. But please allow me to avoid that reality for now.
Friday Night Hellscape
Daytimes have been sleepy, blissful, and happy. They’re fun enough to wipe away the tears and memory of the previous night.
Except for Friday night.
Cluster feeding, as we learned firsthand, is an event in which a full moon sends a newborn into a manic, werewolf-like state of feeding and screaming. This often lasts hours.
Seven hours, to be exact. The cycle is as follows:
- The animal is put down to sleep
- The animal begins to scream for food
- The animal is fed for 30-40 minutes
- The animal needs to be changed
- Back to step one
Seven hours passed with little break for Cassidy. I filled feeding time with household chores to stay awake with her, but there was little I could do but watch.
It was brutal. I remained calm and in-control for the first six hours. In the seventh hour, something broke.
Cassidy was overextended and needed a ten minute break. For ten minutes, I found myself (again) trying every remedy known to man to get this baby to stop screaming. I prayed that our upstairs neighbors weren’t trying to plot our collective murders.
(We gave them a generous Amazon gift card to smooth things over the next day!)
Deep into the night as Cassidy returned from the bathroom, I handed ‘A’ off for the final time, and began sobbing and hyperventilating. I curled up onto a makeshift bed on the floor of the nursery, and briefly passed out.
At 6am, ‘A’ finally went to sleep.
The most challenging part wasn’t my own exhaustion – it was the inability to help Cassidy, who (obviously) had it much worse than myself.
There’s good biological reasons for cluster feeding. We did the right thing by giving into the demands of the werewolf. But the endlessness of this event, combined with the sleep deprivation of the previous week, amounted to one of the hardest things I've ever been through.
Saturday Night Bliss
The following evening, ‘A’ fell asleep almost immediately. Aside from waking him up every three hours for feeding, he slept through the night with minimal consolation.
We were astounded.
Right Now
As I write this, ‘A’ is sleeping on my chest. Cassidy is snoring next to me.
I love his little face scrunches, the soft coos he lets out, and every little change in his breathing patterns. I’ve never experienced a love like this.
The tremors of Friday night suddenly feel small, and distant. And worth it.