I remember one the most striking moments when my son was born. I was walking down the hall of the hospital going somewhere, i don't recall. I was wearing two plastic wristbands. The first one was to indicate that i was the Husband soon to be Dad. It was my admittance to the maternity and delivery floors. I had been told that without it i wouldn't really be allowed in. It was my hall pass.
The second wrist band was one that indicated that i was a new dad. I would get that one when my child was born. This was the really important one. If i wanted to see my baby (if he wasn't with mommy) i had to show the nurses my wrist band and they had to check it against my child's numbers. My wife had one too. Without these id wristbands we would not have been allowed to take our son home (which i understand the security of it but i wonder what actually would have happened if...?).
Anyway, as i was walking down the hall, i would notice other dads-to-be (one wrist band) and new daddies (two wrist bands).
When i would meet the eyes of the new daddies, there was always a certain recognition that would flash across their eyes. I would give a slight, masculine nod of "yeah i'm there with you" and keep walking. They always had this look that was somewhere between elation and dumbfoundedness. It is quite the picture. While i have no evidence of it, i am certain i had the same look on my face. In a brief gesture we would share a deeper understanding.
We were Fathers.
We didn't have a clue about how or what was gonna happen next.
We didn't care.
We were in a very fuzzy pinkish cloud kinda like cotton candy but more like a fizzy soda fully present but not really there. Reality had bent (but not in a Matrix kind of way). We could recognize each other 'cause we were all walking around in the same existential cloud of unknowing.
When i would look at the soon-to-bes, they hardly ever acknowledged me. I know why. I probably wouldn't have acknowledged me either. The soon-to-bes are stuck. They were caught between planes of existence. Not quite dads but not quite nonDads. They were SchrodingerDads. Lost in their heads, the anticipations, their anxieties, there fears, their hopes, i could go on.
SchrodingerDads are treated like lost puppies by the hospital staff. The sensitivity offer bordered on patronizing and they often were expected to say much or do much. Although, i suspect this depended largely on the nurses and the doctors attending the birth. I got to feel some of this patronizing attitude every so often. It wasn't glaring but it was ever so slight.
After my son was born and the euphoria crept back some and as i was walking down the hall and i determined New Dad or SchrodingerDad by wrist band, i would often want to say something encouraging to the SchrodingerDads to ease their thoughts and selfabsorption. I didn't and wouldn't. I didn't want to break the spell. I didn't want to tread into some elses cloud and private thoughts.
I wasn't there for that.
Now, like when you own or happen to drive a certain kind of car and you start noticing it on the highways and the roads all the time, i am quicker to notice fathers and the progeny. Funny thing is, some still have that cloud of pink fuzzy fizzy going on and others have that lost look as if the SchrodingersDaddyism stuck to them.
I wonder which they see on me?
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