On Jiu Jitsu and Fathering a Newborn
It’s some time between 4 and 5AM at Kaiser Permanente in Oakland, Ca. My wife and I have been mostly awake for the past 48 hours delivering our son who has now been alive approximately 26 hours. I’m standing shirtless frantically shushing, bouncing, patting and swaddling our newborn with every “how-to-soothe-a-baby” technique I’d studied on youtube for the past nine months.
It’s not going well.
He’s violently howling in protest, arching his back, turning bright red, thrusting his little appendages wildly through the air. This goes on for what seems like an eternity (realistically about 20min) until the chaos subsides, he falls asleep, I attempt to set him down which startles him and this whole cycle repeats. To say that this is an emotional rollercoaster for me is as cliche as it is accurate.
At the apex of the next screaming bout, a midwife came into our room to check on everyone. She sees me looking like a sketch comic’s parody of a new dad and politely asks if I’d like a hand. I oblige.
Within moments, our son is sleeping, well…like a baby. She effortlessly wrapped him up and laid him in the bassinet then gave me a few gentle pointers on how I can do better next time. To my untrained eye, it looked like I was doing exactly what she was doing, but I lacked a few critical details which rendered my technique useless — sound familiar?
In that moment I had a flashback to my first few jiu jitsu classes — equal parts humbling, frustrating and exhilarating. That woman was black belt in babies and I was an awkward, first-day white belt who didn’t know how to put on his pants.
It’s been about four weeks now, and I’d like to share a few of the lessons that jiu jitsu taught me about being a dad to a newborn:
Lesson 1
There are no shortcuts: everything will probably work at least once, and nothing works every time.
Books and videos are great, but they will often get you into more trouble than they’ll get you out of. You’re not going to become a baby whisperer from reading “The Expectant Father” just like you’re not going to win ADCC by watching John Danaher videos. Resources like these are most helpful for familiarizing yourself with what’s going on — and, honestly, sometimes the knowledge that what is happening is “normal” is a huge help.
Advice from friends can be helpful, but it has its limits. Often they point out some critical nuance that you’re missing — “you’re getting flattened out too much in half guard, that’s why you’re getting passed” or, “play white noise to help baby sleep, the womb was a very loud place.” Just take it with a grain of salt — everyone’s game ( and baby) is unique.
Ultimately, nothing gets you better faster than rolling live. If you want to improve, get involved, do more, and spend more time on the mat. The more rounds and reps you and baby get in, the more you will get to know each other and the easier everything will become.
Lesson 2
Crying and tapping are just a part of the game and don’t indicate how “good” you are.
You know the saying, “A black belt has failed more times than a white belt has ever tried?” Same goes with great parents. Babies cry. A lot. It’s how they communicate. It doesn’t mean you suck or you’re doing a bad job. It means they are trying to tell you something.
When you were a white belt (or maybe a blue belt) you’d get tapped five times in a round. It was discouraging, but it was how you learned the game. As you progressed you got tapped less, or at least understood why it was happening so you could address it in the future. Crying works in a very similar way and the sooner you come to accept it, the easier your journey will become.
Remember great black belts still get tapped, it means they are taking risks and progressing. The same goes for parenting a newborn.
Lesson 3
Be a good partner (best advice my sister-in-law gave me).
It can be really easy for dads to expect mom to have all the answers, no matter how woke you are, bro. This is mostly attributed to two things 1) the baby was inside her for 9 months and 2) she has the boobs (if you’re breastfeeding).
Fun fact: you and your partner are actually both white belts (ok, so maybe she’s a white belt who wrestled a little in high school, but that “advantage” runs out fast).
Remember, she has been a parent for exactly the same amount of time you have, and if you have an open mind, you’ll realize that for most things, you are both equally equipped. For everything else, recognize your strengths and weaknesses and leverage them to be better as a whole.
Note: I struggled with this a ton in my first few days as a dad. I didn’t have what my baby needed to be soothed, and I thought I just sucked at being a dad. I learned that sometimes the best you can do is just sit by your partner’s side and help them help the baby.
Lesson 4
You will get comfortable with weird bodily fluids much faster than you think.
Laundry is your god now.
That is all.
Lesson 5
The community is incredible.
The parent code is real, y’all. Remember how you buddied up with that guy in finance at your office once you both realized you trained (what’s up Anil)? You know what it’s like when you see another guy with cauliflower ear at Trader Joe’s?
Imagine that with every person you know who has had a kid times 100.
People you went to high school with will send you burping tips in the middle of the night when you’re freaking out. Your buddy you only see twice a year who has a 9-month-old? He’s sending you a $70 velcro swaddle. Everyone will ask you when the last time you ate was. You will feel a deep, emotional connection to strangers with strollers.
It rips, guys.
With four weeks of fatherhood under my belt I certainly don’t have any magical midwife skills yet. At best, I’d say I may have earned my first stripe and I’m pretty proud of that. Last thing, while the goal is always to get better, sometimes the best way to do that is to let go of expectations and enjoy the little wins, or as my good friend Joe (father of two kids under four) put it:
