The Life of Dad

by Anna Machin

  The attachment between parent and child is the first, and arguably most powerful, attachment an individual will form, and whether this is a healthy or unhealthy attachment will mould the baby’s health and behaviour for life. As such, the attachment between father and child has long-term implications for the child, family and society as a whole. In recent years, we have come to view the bond between father and child as a different kind of connection, forming a unique and important relationship. Ben’s experience makes it clear that this bond begins to form, for both dad and baby, well before birth:

  When my wife was pregnant with Rosie, I would sing ‘Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star’ to her. When she was born, as soon as she was up on mum’s tum, the umbilical cord still attached, I sang ‘Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star’ and instantly she recognized it, and that was one of those moments that will always be with me.

  Ben, dad to Rosie (eighteen months)

  Australian psychologist John Condon of Flinders University in Australia has led the field in identifying the important aspects of attachment both before and after birth and, more importantly, in defining the differences between father-to-child and mother-to-child attachment. If you are an expectant dad, whose relationship to your baby-to-be is mostly in your mind, three factors seem to be key in the extent to which you will bond with your unborn child. Firstly, how often you find yourself daydreaming about your baby and the emotions this elicits in you. Particularly key is to what extent you visualize your baby as a ‘little person’ and to what extent you experience positive, as opposed to negative, feelings towards them. So, are you preoccupied by thoughts about who he or she might resemble and what they might be called, and do such thoughts elicit feelings of tenderness, love and happiness? Or do you rarely picture your baby and, when you do, is your response one of irritation, anger or frustration?

  The second factor is how comfortable you are with your chosen identity as a father and, more specifically, to what extent you imagine being an ‘involved father’. The term ‘involved father’ was first coined in the 1980s to describe the type of father who wished to co-parent his child and have as much input into his child’s care and emotional and physical development as the mother – it’s the ‘new dad’ of the popular press. This new breed of father was someone who stood in stark contrast to the more traditional image of the breadwinning disciplinarian that epitomized the dads of earlier decades. For one of the fathers in my studies, being an involved dad was his goal:

  My role is to support emotionally and financially. I think it is a bit of everything. In parenthood, everything is joint – I don’t believe that I should be the sole money-earner and Julie should be the sole parent; I think we should split it evenly. Our job is to provide our child with money, emotional support, protection, love, everything. I mean, I think it is an amazing thing to be a dad. You’ve got such a responsibility . . . it just encompasses everything.

  Colin, dad to Freya (six months)

  The type of father you want to be has a fundamental effect on the nature of the attachment you form to your unborn baby. In their study of attachment and identity, Australian psychologists Cherine Habib and Sandra Lancaster found that expectant dads who included ‘father’ as a significant component in their identity, alongside husband and worker, for example, and who identified most highly with the role of co-parent had stronger attachment to their unborn child than those who envisaged a primary role as breadwinner. And many men, like Mark, are consciously embracing this identity:

  I don’t want to be doing sixty hours a week and not [be] there. When I was growing up, my dad was a successful man, a director of a company. But I only remember seeing him at weekends . . . I do dinner, I do bath, I do bed . . . every single night, and long may that continue . . . I want to be here, [to] be remembered.

  Mark, dad to Emily (six months)

  Pregnancy is one of the few events in life when we are able to take some time to prepare for a major change in our circumstances. The other key transitions – puberty, first love, first loss – are a little harder to predict. Parents have the opportunity to take the nine months of pregnancy to prepare practically and emotionally for the new arrival. As is clear from the voices of the dads we have heard so far in this chapter, for many fathers, considering what sort of parent they want to be is an important part of this preparation. And while this consideration of identity is critical to attachment, it is also important to the man’s sense of self and his relationship with his partner; all important factors in how effectively a man transitions to being a dad. Here, the power of dad’s imagination is key:

  Before I had a child, the dream I had was me with my baby in their room because they are a bit upset, nursing them in a rocking chair. So, before my little girl arrived, I got my mum’s rocking chair and put it in her room. When it did happen, I was like, ‘At last! I’m in a rocking chair! I’ve got a baby in my arms!’ Like when people dream of a white wedding, that was my dream when I had a baby.

  Adrian, dad to Judy (seven)

  Finally, one external factor has a major influence on how well you will bond with your unborn child, and that is the nature of your relationship with your partner. Where the relationship between parents-to-be is strong and healthy, with high relationship satisfaction and mutual support for each other’s roles, fathers tend to form stronger attachments with their unborn babies than those who may feel more at a distance from a partner. Obviously, adding a baby to an established relationship is a tricky journey for any couple to navigate, but the more this journey can be travelled together, the better for the family.

  For the majority of fathers, attachment to their unborn baby increases as the pregnancy progresses. However, for some fathers, developing this relationship is not so straightforward. Some men, like Jim, below, may lack an adequate fathering role model, others may struggle with their own mental health, while some dads-to-be may experience discord in their relationship with the birth mother.

  I spent a lot of time before my son was born thinking, What should I be? What is my role? My parents divorced when I was quite young, so it was very tough for me because I didn’t really have a model set in my mind of what a real father should be . . . Mine was this distant, fun guy who came on weekends, but what I want to become is someone who cares about my son and spends time with him. Unlike my father, who didn’t get that opportunity.

  Jim, dad to Sean (six months)

  In cases such as these, the ability to assess the strength of a father’s attachment before birth can help in diagnosing future problems in that relationship, which in turn has wider ramifications for society as a whole. As you will see in Chapter Ten, as a father, your relationship with your child has the potential to have a profound influence on their behavioural, emotional and psychological development that is separate to any influence mum may have. Where the attachment is strong, fathers are the promoters of good mental health, the encouragers of independence and the supporters of behavioural and linguistic development. But where this relationship is found wanting, the consequences have the potential to negatively influence not only the child and its family but also society at large. Children who form insecure attachments to their parents are at an increased risk of developing antisocial behaviours, experiencing addiction and suffering from poor mental health. John Condon’s work on antenatal attachment found that, combined with the quality of the relationship between mum and dad, the nature of the father’s attachment to his unborn child is the strongest predictor of how well he will relate to his child when it is born. This is an incredibly powerful finding, for it means that we now have a tool that will help us to identify, even before birth, those relationships that may need help.

  * * *

  Much of the prenatal bond between father and child is down to the dad’s imagination and hard work; picturing your child and future relationship, seeking opportunities where you can to interact with your partner’s baby bump and taking the time to consider the sort of dad you want to be. Take Tim:

 
I hope I’m starting to build a relationship with the baby . . . It is hard, it feels like you’re talking to this thing that has no idea what you are or what you’re doing. But I talk to it quite a lot, I touch it quite a lot. I like to be involved if I am here. We had a great game of high five a few days ago, where I was patting and it was patting back . . . It could have just been hiccupping, but it was great, really cool.

  Tim, expectant dad

  We know that the bonding neurochemicals that epitomize pregnancy and childbirth – oxytocin and dopamine – are available to dad, but at a much lower intensity and after a lot more time and work (childbirth aside!). But evolution has not abandoned dads entirely to a pregnancy powered by the imagination – it has one more wonderful trick up its sleeve to help fathers make the transition to fatherhood.

  Many would say that testosterone is the hormone that makes a man a man. Its release within the womb at between six to twelve weeks’ gestation leads to the development of the penis and testes in a male baby and influences the development of the brain. Once born, many argue that it is testosterone and its influence on brain development and behaviour that drives male children to select male-gendered toys to play with and turn every stick into a sword or gun. During puberty, it controls the distribution of fat and muscle and the development of bones that sees the jaw, shoulders and chest widen and strengthen and promotes the growth of hair on the chest, face and genitals. And it is the hormone that decides how effective you will be as a lover and a father.

  It has long been understood that men who have higher circulating testosterone are more successful at attracting mates. This may be as a result of two things: a stronger testosterone-driven motivation to seek out women and a preference in women for partners with strong jaws and chests – the better to protect and provide. However, when a man decides to stick with one woman and settle down, his previously beneficially high levels of testosterone suddenly become a hindrance. While he tries to focus on his new role of committed partner and father, his hormones are driving him to keep looking for another mate, something that would be detrimental to any offspring who require his care. This is known as the ‘challenge hypothesis’ and it certainly is a challenge. First developed by British zoologist John Wingfield, the challenge hypothesis tries to tackle the thorny question of how a man can balance the need to be a successful lover before having children with the need to be a successful parent after. And the answer? That testosterone has got to go.

  And it does. Across cultures as diverse as polygynous Senegalese agriculturalists, middle-class Israelis, high-investing Filipino fathers, middle-class Canadians, non-cohabiting Jamaican fathers and my own group of UK dads, fathers have significantly lower testosterone levels than non-fathers, regardless of whether they live with their children or not. And we know that men with lower levels of testosterone are more responsive to a child’s cry, are more likely to wish to co-parent their child and show more empathy and affection towards their children than men with higher testosterone levels. Testosterone makes a considerable contribution to differences between individuals in fathering behaviour. We’ll dig into this a bit more in Chapter Six. But the question arises: is it simply men with generally lower circulating testosterone who become fathers, hence globally dads have lower testosterone than non-dads, or does becoming a father somehow suppress testosterone levels?

  Lee Gettler of Northwestern University, Illinois, has the answer. In a groundbreaking five-year study, Gettler and his colleagues followed a group of Filipino men as they embarked upon relationships and fatherhood. Meeting them first as single men, they measured their baseline levels of testosterone. Five years later, they visited the men again. Of the 624 men tested at the start of the study, 162 had become first-time fathers during the five-year period. Not only were these 162 men the individuals who had exhibited the highest testosterone at the start of the study, but five years later they now exhibited the lowest levels. The men who had remained single and those who had found partners but not become fathers saw no real change in their testosterone levels. Gettler had his answer. Men who have high circulating testosterone levels are more successful at finding mates and they see the largest drop in testosterone when they become fathers. Testosterone levels are suppressed by becoming a father and, it would appear, while rising slightly following the end of the first few newborn weeks, they never reach their pre-fatherhood levels again. Evolution has selected for a mechanism that allows men to successfully balance the opposing needs of the single man and the devoted father.

  * * *

  Um, I think I’ve changed. I hope I have. I’ve learnt to be a lot calmer with things. I feel there is more of a purpose in my life now. I feel a lot happier. I mean, in theory we should be more like, ‘Oh my god, what have we done?’, because having three of them has been tough, but we have been really lucky.

  Matt, dad to Tom (seven), Sam (three) and James (seven months)

  I always start my study of new fathers during pregnancy, and one of the early questions they encounter is what they think the impact of having a baby will be on their lives. This is generally something to which they have given some thought, and the majority are not unrealistic about the potential for major upheaval that their impending situation will bring. Many recognize the effect parenthood will have upon their home and social life; altering everyday practicalities, causing the relationship with their partner to change and putting an extra financial burden on the family.

  But for some men, like Colin, anxiety lies in the question of whether they are capable of stepping up to the job. Indeed, whether they have the requisite qualifications.

  I think setting an example worries me, because I always want to be successful and [to] be seen as successful by people around me – family and friends – and I always want [my daughter] to see me that way. So, I don’t want to be seen as a failure and I don’t want her to grow up as a failure, almost. I want to make sure I’ve done a good job raising her and that people can see I’ve done a good job raising her.

  Colin, dad to Freya (six months)

  In one of the first studies of its kind, sociologist Tina Miller of Oxford Brookes University followed a group of new fathers as they transitioned to fatherhood. One of her subjects reflected upon how no one assesses your suitability to be a dad: ‘You get selected to do your job on a skill base or your character . . . Father, you can become a father quite easily, it’s frightening how easy it is . . . You know, am I up to it? Will I be able to cope with it? I don’t know.’ But in my experience of new fathers, such thoughts are fleeting and rather than being a source of ongoing anxiety, it is an opportunity to redefine who they are; to adopt a new role, identity or perspective. Many of the fathers in my studies have found that becoming a dad motivates them to ‘up their game’, acting as an impetus to improve, to ensure they are a good role model for their child, even though their desire to be perfect can lead them to fall short of the high standards they set themselves at times. But while there are downsides to this self-imposed pressure, these are counterbalanced by the benefits that being a father can have for a man’s self-esteem and confidence. I can truly say that for the vast majority of the fathers I work with, becoming a dad feels like they have finally found their calling.

  Even men who we might imagine would find it difficult to handle the transition to fatherhood – for example, young fathers or those who have not had a suitable role model – can find that becoming a father allows them to reject the stereotype of the authoritarian or absent father, or the example that their father did, or did not, set them, and turn instead to a different model, allowing them to recast themselves and escape their past.

  In recent years, sociologists and social anthropologists, who concern themselves with the study of individual societies and cultures, have begun to explore beyond the negative tabloid headlines that label all young fathers as irresponsible and lazy, to try to understand whether positive stories of young fatherhood exist; an undertaking I fully support. What they found is that some y
oung fathers are beginning to turn the narrative of the disinterested or absent teenage father on its head and are finding salvation and transformation in being a dad. Fathers who, in the past, would have felt the need to live up to the tough-guy image promoted by their societies are using the opportunities afforded by new fatherhood to reject this life path. For example, population scientists from the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine and the University of KwaZulu-Natal found that in South Africa, where the overriding image of black manhood is one of dominance, oppression and absence, young black fathers are promoting a new idea of fatherhood where real men reject womanizing, drug-taking and irresponsible spending and replace them with a drive to provide money, protection and care for their families. In America, midwife Dr Jenny Foster of the University of Massachusetts found that the possible judgement from their children drove young Puerto Rican fathers to reject the gangland life – and the associated risk of early death or incarceration – to ensure that they were on hand throughout their children’s lives to provide care and support and be that all-important role model. For these young fathers, the transition to being a dad truly revolutionized their lives and their futures. From gang member to involved father.

  But perhaps one of the groups of fathers for which the change in identity is the most extreme is gay fathers, like Simon:

  Growing up as gay in the time that I did it, [becoming a dad] was never, ever an option for me and that was a really hard part of coming out. I would never be a dad and never have children. And obviously I accepted that. And in my twenties, it was totally fine. That was the way it was going to be. Obviously, as the world has changed . . . Then we met and very quickly got together, [and] we felt it was very right. We are lucky in lots of ways. A nice house and money . . . So it just all absolutely fits that it would work for us to be dads.