A father’s greatest joy is his greatest source of sorrow.
No, I’m not talking about my car, the front end of which was crumpled by a jeepney (goodbye to defensive driving). And, no, I didn’t get someone pregnant by “accident”; that’s not the reason for the title of this entry.
I’m talking about my son.
I wrote about how I saw my son, who was then 2 months old, smile at me – while sleeping. Maybe it’s a normal thing for babies to smile while sleeping, but that smile, which I really believe is directed at me, was enough to wipe away the exhaustion as a result of rocking him to sleep and changing diapers at 4 o’clock in the morning.
I didn’t mind doing that, even if I had a heavy day at the office and was scheduled to appear for a court hearing in the next four hours. I didn’t really mind that I have no social life for the 2 months right after his birth, or that pimples had started sprouting on my face due to lack of sleep in taking care of him. Surprisingly, I won’t mind doing it all over again.
Yes, miracle of miracles; I never imagined doing all that. I never thought how things that seemed important when I was single are so trivial now (like pimples). I never thought how a loving wife and a “little monster” could turn my world upside-down, for the better. I never imagined how great it is to be a father.
One of those days, the height of my happiness was matched by the abyss of my sorrow.
It’s nothing serious, really. My son developed colds and had a fever, although this is relatively mild compared to others. He had a difficult time breathing so we had to use an aspirator (I was luckier because my former officemate said he had to suck the goo using his mouth). He wasn’t crying, maybe due to the medicine, which is a good thing because his tears would have pulverized my cholesterol-congested heart. While I stayed calm, I was dying deep inside just watching my son trying to take deep breaths. If only there’s a way of transferring his suffering to me, I’d gladly do it.
Years ago, I asked my father things about marriage and fatherhood. I think I’m not yet ready to become a father, I told him. I can’t imagine watching my children suffer, like what is happening now to my son (and to think it’s only a fever). So many things can go wrong. This is not a child-friendly world.
My father said there’s no certainty in life, and that a father will soon realize he has the strength he never thought he had. Fatherhood, just like life in general, is not a blog, where you can change themes on a whim or surf and choose only the good stuff. Babies come in a package, and, as Mr. Gump said, you’ll never know what you’re gonna get.
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by Major Tom
20 Oct 2006 at 14:28
Fatherhood have its sacrifices—sometimes hard and heavy—but it’s all worth it when we see our little kids smile. I hope Enzo is alright by now. You just reminded me how I had endured endless nights when my four kids were just infants years ago…I just could smile while reminiscing.
by missP
21 Oct 2006 at 01:26
i hope your son Enzo is better now… a child’s smile or a mere simple reflex like grabbing your finger since it’s the only thing that would fit in its tiny little hands could really melt one’s heart…
by Fred
21 Oct 2006 at 18:41
missP/Major Tom, Enzo is doing well, thank you. One day, I’m gonna look back and reminisce, read this blog entry, and smile from ear to ear =)
by Jon Limjap
01 Nov 2006 at 12:47
It’s my 3rd day apart from my wife and daughter (they were staying a week in my wife’s home province) and I’m finding it hard to adjust being “single” again. And just to rub it in, my 1 year old told me “Daddy, I love you” over the cellphone.
Iba talaga kapag tatay ka na, lalo pa’t may anak kang nakakapagpaligaya sa’yo.
by Atty.Fred
01 Nov 2006 at 16:07
Jon, when I was still single, I already heard that line – iba talaga kapag tatay ka na. My officemates said that they want to go home early (or go to the office late) to spend time with their kid. They kept on talking about their respective kids. While I didn’t take this against them, I didn’t quite understand.
Then I had a son 10 months ago. Now, I fully understand. It feels great when my 10-month old son extends his arms out to me when he sees me after office…
Of course, I know that you can handle it, but it just feels empty. Hang on.