I’m a dad, again. We recently had a son born fat and healthy.
No matter how many children you have, there’s always anxiety associated with child birth. It’s freaking nerve racking. As a man, I can only do my best to provide emotional support to push through the experience… I think that’s the difficult part for me, feeling like a spectator. But that’s what makes motherhood so beautiful and important.
My wife handled it like a champ, and gave birth to our second child.
I think he weighed a little over four kilograms (8.8 pounds).
Now I can live out my God of War fantasy by addressing my son as Boy.
Having more than one kid opens my world up to numerous pronouns. I can use labels to refer to my children like first born, second born, oldest, youngest, son, daughter, big sister and little brother.
Most importantly, my oldest is adjusting well. She’s been extremely enthusiastic about becoming a big sister. Of course, she fights for our attention, but is still doing great.
In all honesty I was initially worried about how she’d react to the change in family dynamic, but she’s handling it like a champ.
We still go on our daddy daughter adventures. Just recently we went to a local Bon Odori festival. She got to wear her pink Doraemon yukata that I picked up at a thrift store. We’ve also been going to the pool every weekend.
I recently learned that when a Japanese a mom has a child in Japan, they’re instructed to remain indoors for the first month post delivery. It explains why old Japanese women fawn over my son like they’ve never seen a newborn before. And now that I think about it, I rarely see newborns in public.
Anyways, the boy is doing great. He’s growing fat, breastfeeding and pooping well. I’m still waiting for him to give me a genuine smile that isn’t the result of a fart reflex.