I never realised how redundant I would feel at times during the first few weeks of baby Freddie’s life. What can a man actually do?
Sarah is all he really needs for three months, a time some call the fourth trimester.
Apparently humans are born far less developed mentally than mammals. This is due to the size of the head to enable it to pass through the pelvis.
The experts have a point here. Have you seen a calf start walking straight after birth? Freddie has just got the hang of burping after a good feed!
So anyway, I’ve made it my place to be as useful as possible, to support Sarah as much as I can and be part of Freddie’s early development.
I’m now feeling this wasn’t such a great idea though, as his 4am cries see me roll out of bed and drag my knuckles along the carpet like a neanderthal.
I do feel good for being the chief nappy changer. I’m actually serving a purpose there.
But for the first time, I’m also feeling like the hunter gatherer. As Sarah stays at home, I go out in search of food.
Well, to Waitrose.
The initial bubble of excitement is slowly being replaced with tiredness and developing a routine.
Freddie’s cute little noises still entertain, but they are more like a familiar Morecambe & Wise sketch than new material by Jason Manford.
So whilst our three-week-old baby feeds, poos, sleeps and cries, I can only imagine the time when my role starts to become more important.
Like, for instance, helping with his football development.
I can’t wait for the day goalposts are installed in the back garden. I’m hoping he’s left-footed like me.
Then I can nurture future talent and sign him up for the Pompey youth academy.
Then again, his Southampton-supporting uncle feels he’d be better off up the road.
Gary O’Neill v Gareth Bale was the argument he used. I had to admit he had a point.
So fatherhood has already brought many trials and tribulations. But I’m loving every minute!