A Liminal Space

My daughter is almost a month old now and there are times where it still doesn’t feel real. Like I’m not actually a father and there’s just this baby I’m taking care of for the moment. Even saying her name is weird. Just calling her Baby feels more normal as calling her by name makes it her real name, she’d never know what we’d named her if we just called her Baby. The bizarre feeling when I first said her name was like I was speaking her into existence, announcing her presence for all the gods and humanity to witness. But it felt heavy and came out soft and low. Good for a baby, better to soothe but if you’re exercising primordial magic it’s best to be more confident I think. My wife convinced me we needed a doula, one who speaks her native Mandarin, and so I’ve largely been unneeded. I’ve still got my nine-to-five as well so it all makes me feel so disconnected from being a father. When I have moments that I can steal with Zelda I do, keeping her tiny frame warm and engaging her with talk and the occasional reading (The Princess Bride). In the first three days I slept no more than a few hours while doing everything for Zelda and my wife but after the doula arrived the sudden separation of duties left me anxious and restless. I had left the safe and comfortable boundaries of youth and was creeping evermore into the responsibility of raising another person. Some memories of my youth still seem fresh and yet I’m expected to provide for her for the rest of (hopefully) my life. Daunting yes but I’m not scared of that. Before I can step into the full role of a parent I feel I should be more involved with Zelda day-to-day, moment-to-moment. My wife says I worry too much and it’s fine. She’s probably right though. The doula does create a real and obvious de-escalation of need as she’s able to do most everything herself. I think this causes two problems for me:

1. She’s spending time with Zelda that I don’t want to give up and performing responsibilities I think are mine

2. By not being able to fully step into my expected responsibilities as a parent I cannot fully become one.

This renders me stuck between the past and what’s next. The liminal space between being an adult and being a parent.

If any of this has you worried, it’s fine I’m past the point where this has pervaded my ponderings. So much so I wondered against writing about it at all, but no pain no gain. Logically though this all really shouldn’t matter:

1. The doula is only here for two months max, I have the rest of Zelda’s life to be a father.

2. I just have to get over it because I don’t really have a choice one way or the other. Plus I still have a job to do.

Thanks to ShortFatOtaku on YouTube for the word.