"Dreams, uninterrupted"

Being a new dad means some unavoidable changes in a guy's life. There are the obvious things, like dealing with diapers, noticing spit-up on your clothes just as you're heading out the door late for work, and suddenly becoming a little too familiar with television cartoon characters that up until now you didn't even know existed.

But the biggie, the one impact that has the farthest reach, is dealing with the exhaustion of no longer getting a full night's sleep.

Sure, in your earlier, younger, pre-baby days, you stayed out or routinely didn't go to bed until very late, all the while confident that when the alarm went off a few hours later you'd be out the door fresh and ready to roll. But as time wears on, and the kids start arriving, even though you don't mentally think of yourself as "older," your body isn't bouncing back like it used to. Besides, staying up late because you want to is one thing; staying up late because your child demands it is something else entirely.

So when the time comes, what's a guy to do? Maybe some guys are able to stay asleep while their wives tend to the crying and feeding in the middle of the night. But, in this day and age, I think most men feel they have an obligation to chip in when their kids wake up at 2 am, and 3 am, and 4 am, if only to provide moral support for the walking zombie-woman they used to recognize as their sweetheart.

For the first few months of life, a newborn really does just need her mommy when the crying starts: it's all about food. So, if you're like us and agree with Health Canada's recommendation, then the first six months of a newborn's life are pretty much spent attached to mommy's nipples. So, really, my moral support was all I could offer.

(Yes, of course, there are breast pumps which, theoretically, could be used to fill bottles that could then be used by dad to feed the baby in the dark of night. But, in reality, this isn't as tidy a solution as it sounds. We watched as friends and family dealt with a growing number of baby bottles—all needing to be regularly cleaned and sterilized—and we were thankful that we were able to simply use nature's milk-truck.)

But even if I wasn't the one getting out of bed every night—for the first few months anyway; after about six months, I became the go-to guy for non-feed-related midnight wake events—I was still waking up. And once you're sleep is disturbed, you just don't get the same rest.

So how is someone supposed to get used to long-term lack of sleep, and still function as a normal human being? Well, I'm still trying to figure that one out. For a while everything is a haze. Then the haze becomes a dense fog. Then that dense fog gives way to a murky blackness, followed, eventually, by a gradual lightening of the blackness to a smoky grey. All the while, of course, you're trying hard to focus at work, maintain friendships and secure as much quality time as possible with your spouse.

But, one of the blessings of life is that everything has its season. Soon, your baby starts sleeping better. Your own sleep gets a little longer. You wake in the morning not quite as dead as usual. And you start to look forward to each night's sleep with less dread, knowing you have a solid chance of making it through the night without once stumbling blindly over strewn clothes and toys as your voice goes hoarse from trying to quietly soothe your daughter back to sleep by singing insanely repetitive lullabies.

This is where I find myself these days, in this magical place of increasing rest as my daughter gets better and better at keeping herself asleep. It's wonderful. Tonight I'll go to bed calmly, happily. I'll look forward to my dreams, uninterrupted, and to waking up feeling rested as I leave for work. I'll kiss my daughter as I rock her to sleep and place her in her crib, confident that she'll remain unconscious for hours and hours as I, too, drift off into beautiful oblivion.

Unless, of course, she wakes me up.