Paid Paternity Leave and #DearFutureDads

A coworker and I were speaking recently about children. He doesn’t have any kids himself but he would like to one day. He mentioned that he struggles with anxiety, though, and that he worries about how that would manifest in his parenting. He asked me how T and I deal with the anxiety that comes with raising our kids.

“That’s why God made bourbon,” I answered with a grin.

I explained that every parent finds the style that feels right to them. I said that T and I do our best to find a middle ground between two extremes; we let our kids explore by helping them climb on the playground, taking them into the pool and encouraging them to try new things and we let them do things on their own whenever we can. S has been riding a scooter since she was seventeen months old and E made his way to the top of this rock (below) by himself when he was around three. We stand behind them to catch them if they slip and fall but we help them through as little as possible so they learn on their own.

E Rock Climb
That rock was at least ten feet high. My hands were under him as he climbed but he never needed my help.

“We help them learn so they build confidence,” I explained. “And then, once we’ve seen them do things a few times, we don’t worry as much when they’re doing it in the future.”

Then the conversation shifted to paternity leave. I told him that I took about two weeks off when each child was born but that I used vacation days because our job does not offer a concrete paternity leave policy. We’re granted one day for the day the baby is born, I said, and we can take as much as three months off through FMLA but that time is unpaid. As the primary source of income for my family, that wasn’t an option for us.

“Do you wish you could have taken more time off?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” I answered without any hesitation.

The time off felt somewhat easier with S; I had a much better idea of what to expect with her regarding diapers, sleep and feeding patterns, and what she and T were going to need from me each day. Plus, at that point, T ended up tending to S more and I spent more time with E, who was about to turn four.

I had a much more difficult time with E, though. I couldn’t seem to get the hang of changing diapers, couldn’t adapt to so little sleep, couldn’t believe the sheer volume of laundry that seemed to regenerate itself as soon as I had finished a load. I couldn’t get away from the thought that I was making mistakes left and right and that I was going to lose my wife and son because I couldn’t make the grade as a husband and father. I couldn’t find the comfort level and the loving bond with my son that seemed to come so easily to T and other parents and I couldn’t figure out what I needed to do to solve the problem.

“Wait, you had trouble?” my friend asked, surprised. “But you always speak so positively about your kids and how much you love them.”

“Love was never the problem,” I explained. “It was the connection and the skill level that were missing. I had no idea what I was doing; I felt almost like I was sinking in quicksand but I couldn’t get a handhold to pull myself out. I needed more practice and, for that, I needed more time.”

He sat back in his chair as his expression shifted from shock to thoughtful contemplation. I could practically see the gears trying to force the wrench through their mechanisms as he tried to process this new piece of information. I told him more about my struggles when E was born and how I eventually was able to find help in a number of places to pull my way out of the doldrums. Then I told him that, if and when he gets to that point when he is fortunate enough to have children, he should depend on the people around him and reach out to vent whenever he can. I said that he needs to process his thoughts and his emotions so that he has more energy to focus on his child.

“Parenting is the hardest thing you’ll ever do,” I said. “But, if you can find your comfort zone and continue to work at it, it’s also the most wonderful thing.”


My story is not nearly as unique as it might sound. New fathers struggle with the emotional adjustments that come with the territory, just as new mothers do; they just don’t get nearly the same sort of attention. It might not be true for all fathers, but I know that having more time at home would have helped me immensely. That’s why I’ve partnered with Dove Men+Care on their #DearFutureDads campaign to send messages to expectant and future fathers, as well as to promote longer and more formalized paid paternity leave policies in the United States. 

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