Thoughts on fatherhood: A post-birth dispatch

One year ago, almost to the day, I used this column as a “post-wedding dispatch” to offer some (very) preliminary thoughts on marriage. The column was published five days after my wedding. Now, almost exactly one year later, I am using this column as a “post-birth dispatch” to offer some (very) preliminary thoughts on another milestone life event: fatherhood. Indeed, this column is published seven days after my wife gave birth to our first child, a beautiful baby girl.

There is really nothing that can prepare someone for first-time parenthood. And while the burden of caring for a newborn is clearly heavily weighted toward the mother, one could argue that the immediate postpartum period is even more of an adjustment for the father; the new mother is frequently sleep deprived, yes, but – unlike the father – she also just experienced nine months of frequent body changes, hormonal fluctuations, physical discomforts and other limitations. The husband experienced none of that; one day it was just him and his wife, and the next day, he had an angelic – but also fussy! – little one that forever changed his life.

Talk about an adjustment.

But whatever costs, sleepless nights and other inconveniences it may entail, there can of course be no doubt that fatherhood is unequivocally worth it. Perhaps I thought my wedding day was the happiest day of my life, but I can now confidently say that the happiest day of my life thus far was the day of my daughter’s birth. I have never been more euphoric in my entire life. And since we left the hospital, the number of times my eyes have welled up simply by looking at our girl is too high to count. The fun guessing games never stop, either. Who does she look like? Whose personality will she have? And so forth.

I have dedicated my professional career to the battle of ideas – to being but one cog in the fight to preserve our great nation and our Western civilization. But really, is there anything more enriching and fulfilling than this? Being a parent contextualizes everything else we do in life. Other than serving God Himself – which itself includes the “be fruitful and multiply” injunction of Genesis 1:28 – there is no greater end to which human beings are called. I had long surmised that, but holding my daughter in the hospital for the first time confirmed it.

In the Jewish tradition, one of most famous Talmudic tractates, Pirkei Avot (“Ethics of the Fathers”), opens by emphasizing the imperative of intergenerational transmission to sustaining one’s way of life: “Moses received the Torah from Sinai and gave it over to Joshua. Joshua gave it over to the Elders, the Elders to the Prophets, and the Prophets gave it over to the Men of the Great Assembly.” If you believe in the truth of your religion, the righteousness of your nation and the superiority of your civilization, then there can be nothing greater than contributing to their very perpetuation.

It is a biological fact that a mother will always be present at the time of a child’s birth. Our societal challenge is maximizing the number of fathers who will also be present. According to recent data, the cumulative percentage of out-of-wedlock births in America is roughly 40%. That number has, tragically, more than doubled since 1980. The reason is not exactly a mystery. As I wrote in my “post-wedding dispatch” column one year ago: “The very essence of the marital relationship – the fusing of two into one, the subordinating of the individual to the couple, learning to approach life’s challenges not as ‘me‘ but as ‘us‘ – is anathema to the ‘newer’ ways of thinking.”

Realistically, there is only so much that policymakers can do to get more young people to marry and get more married couples to have babies. Expanding child tax credits and other family-friendly policies can help; lawmakers would do well to consider the ways that Hungary, for instance, structures its entire tax code to reward marriage and parenthood. But ultimately, the problem of declining marriage rates and birthrates is downstream of a broader spiritual and religious crisis – a crisis of meaning and confidence. When young people are happy, satiated and optimistic about the future, they marry and procreate; when they are sad, depressed and pessimistic about the future, they don’t.

The question thus becomes one of the oldest in all of human existence: how to make men happy and fulfilled. We might begin by considering the timeless wisdom of the book of Psalms, which begins: “Happy is the man who has not followed the counsel of the wicked, or taken the path of sinners.”

Indeed. But for the time being, happy am I for being a father – for being able hold my little angel. God is good.