I’d never want to hurt you, son, but I was terrified by the thoughts I had
You are supposed to be our future, a new chapter in the story of our lives, but I can’t help resenting you. Only a few weeks old, you’re demanding and unreasoning and I’m struggling to see the good that you bring.
To start with, we got on with it, settling into a routine as we stumbled through nappies and nights when you wouldn’t settle, but it started to wear me down. You hear about mothers with postnatal depression, but no one talks about the challenges a father has to face: working to put food on the table and a roof over our heads is tough when you’ve had only a couple of hours sleep, and we’re not supposed to need a break. Men are supposed to never cry, and provide for those we care about. I hope that I can teach you a better way, my son; that you’re allowed to be vulnerable, and not keep everything locked up until it bursts.