I mentioned in the first ever article on this site that I was going to be a dad soon. Well, I’m a dad now! I’m sure the world has been dying to know- how’s fatherhood going? Let’s face it, everyone gets the same type of stories after a baby is born- you hear about the birth, the lack of sleep, the feeding, the crying, and of course the cuteness. In trying to not give you something you’ve heard many times before, I’ll focus on a few days post birth that saw me battle through a mix of bad luck and fatherhood fatigue, leading to a ridiculous series of events!
A couple months before we had our baby, my wife and I were hit with a vicious illness. Not to get into too much detail, let’s just say it was coming out both ends. During this time, I couldn’t help but think about how lucky we were that this happened before the baby- I couldn’t imagine both of us hugging the toilet all the while having to care for a literal baby at the same time.
Flash forward to two weeks into parenthood and my nightmare came true- sort of. First, it was just my wife that was sick. She asked to skip a nighttime feeding shift, meaning that I had to do three feedings in a row- the 12 am, 3 am, and 6 am. No problem, it’s the least I could do given all she’s been through.
What this led to was me being fairly tired, though. More tired than I perhaps realized in the moment. This led to my stretch of bad luck.
Down the Stairs
It started in the evening following this morning. Bad news- I also became infected. To stay positive, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what we dealt with a couple months prior. In this case, it involved a rumbling stomach and a case of the runs. So there I was, feeling both tired and sick, just wanting to finish my evening to-do list before bed. I headed to the basement to throw some stuff in the laundry room. That’s when I fell down the stairs. I can’t remember the last time I fell down the stairs before this. I know I had looked back after the first step to see if my cat was following me, and then boom. Missed a step and down I went. I ended up with a scraped arm and bruised ego. As I lay at the bottom, all I could think was, “I’m just so tired.”
When I ended up back upstairs, I wanted to tell my wife about the ordeal. She cut me off and asked me why my shirt was on inside out. Wait, had I been wearing an inside-out shirt all day?
Anyway, it was an awkward night spent feeding both my baby and my toilet but I survived. Unfortunately, day two brought about my second bit of bad luck.
Feel the Burn
The next evening, my sickness has subsided. I was feeling good. Real good. Time to do some baby chores. It was easy, something I had done many times before- wash a few bottles, fill a few bottles, sterilize a few bottles. We had bought a bottle sterilizer and let me tell you, it’s one of the baby items that I’d highly recommend to new parents. It makes the whole process that much easier. Unless you’re not careful. As I went to grab a new bottle to fill for her next feed, my arm went over top of the sterilizer. So what’s the problem? Oh, just the piping hot steam that comes out of that thing!
My arm ended up in a heap of pain. I ran it under some water for the next few minutes as I thought about how big of a fool I was. I quickly checked to make sure my shirt was at least on the right way this time around. As for the burn, it certainly left me uncomfortable, but not needing any bandages at least.
Okay, so day one- fall down the stairs. Day two, burn my arm. What could day three possibly have in store?
A Nice Leisurely Run (or so I thought)
That day, we decided to head to my parents. They live 3 km away. I decided it would be fun to race there. My wife was to take the car. I was to run. To make things even, she was going to stop for a matcha.
On your mark, get set, go!
I took off like a rocket! Let me tell you, I was flying down the streets! I knew that at my usual pace, it would take me 14 or so minutes, accounting for a few potential stops at cross walks.
About a km into my run, I was about to pass a crosswalk, but I’m talking about one of the short ones without any actual lights. It was just a stop sign for the cars, and a quick cross for the pedestrians. I saw a car approaching to my left, rolling up to the stop sign. He was going to be turning right. I thought it was pretty simple- he’d stop at the stop sign right at the time that I’d be running across the road. What could go wrong?
Well, this car decided to roll through and suddenly, my third bit of bad luck had struck me- I had been hit by a car.
Now, saying I was hit by the car makes it seem worse than it was. In fact, I was very proud of both my awareness and athleticism at that moment. If this was football, I would not have been ruled down. In fact, I would’ve been credited with a stiff arm.
The car whacked my left hand and rolled into the left leg, ever so slightly. The driver then became aware, slammed on the brakes, and I continued my run. It’s weird that two thoughts came to my brain at this moment- one, this feels very normal for my life, and two, I need to win this race!
The Remorseful Driver
I turned back and saw the driver with his hands in the air, given the body language of a very sorry person who simply made the mistake of looking only to his left and trying to make a quick right turn. I gave him an “it’s okay” wave and went on my way. Later, I wondered if I should’ve milked it, like a soccer player taking a dive, rolling on the pavement in the hopes for a little payout. No, no, that’s not how I was raised (I’m a hockey guy after all). Here’s the good news, this was not only the end of my string of bad luck, but with the adrenaline running through me, I won the race!
So, there it is. And talk about a good future lesson to tell my daughter. When life gets tough (aka you fall down the stairs, steam burn your arm and get hit by a car), keep fighting!
