2nd February

The 2nd February is a significant date in my family. On that day, in 1998, my little sister was born. Now, she has to share her birthday with my son, as Harrison was born just after midnight on the same date, exactly 18 years later. For anyone doing the maths, that was just over six weeks ago at the time of writing this.

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My first time holding my son, not long after his birth

It’s incredible how difficult it’s been to find time to even think about writing here, let alone actually do it. As any new parent reading this will know, and as I also know all too well now, free time comes at a minimum when you have a newborn baby. At this exact moment in time though, Harrison is upstairs having a late supper, and I’ve got the opportunity to pull out my laptop and quickly confirm that my baby was born healthy, and it absolutely perfect in every single way.

More soon!

Unplanned hospital visit

It’s a funny thing, being a parent. And I say that before I’ve actually become a parent.

I don’t know who specifically ever said it to me, perhaps it was a lot of people, and perhaps I heard it in a film too, but I’ve always remembered being told that as soon as you have children you’ll spend the rest of your life worrying about their wellbeing. Today, that really hit home for me.

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Baby weight

A lot has happened in the time since I last wrote here and, whilst I intended to tell many stories to you over the past few weeks, I have been so ill that even the thought of trying to write a somewhat sensible blog entry made me dizzy. But I’m on the mend, and maybe I’ll tell you all those stories another time. For now, I’m staying with recent events.

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Despite what the above photo might imply, I have not somehow become a surrogate carrier for my child. No, instead I have simply started attending my first birth-related classes.

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If you never read this, that’s absolutely fine by me.

I set up this blog a number of weeks ago. I had wrestled with the idea of doing it for a long time, then one night the urge became too strong and before I knew it I was purchasing TheStoryOfDad.com. Once the domain was mine, I found myself just staring at the screen. Suddenly, all the ideas I had for this page seemed unexciting, and dare I say it…boring?

There’s one simple fact we must all face at this point, in my first blog entry for this website. That fact? This is an absolutely, 100%, unoriginal blog concept. Hell, the sheer issue I had finding a suitable domain name that was actually available was proof of that! It would seem, in 2015, there are a lot of dads out there who have found their voices and want to speak to the world at large about their parenting journey.

Suddenly, faced with the realisation that I had nothing to offer with this blog that other people weren’t already doing with their own (and many of them much better than I ever will!), I was reminded of something very important: I never wanted to do this for anyone else, I wanted to do it for me.

There’s a good chance not a single person on the planet will ever read what I write here, and that’s okay by me. I just need a place to put some of my crazy thoughts and stories together, and somehow chart my journey from failure as a man to success as a father. Maybe I’ll collect all these entries into something of a book for my child, so that one day he’ll be able to look back at the story of his dad and either smile with pride, or shake his head in shame.

Either way, I’ve a lot to say, and I’m paying a yearly fee to say it right here, so just you try to stop me.