Picture this. You are nervous and fidgety. You are ecstatic, also restless, with anticipatory excitement. The scene is familiar. The hospital waiting room, or lounge. You pace, up and down the floor, conscious, at times, impervious, at times, to what is happening around you. Sometimes, you have a feeling that you are the cynosure of all eyes. You know that you are soon going to become a father.
Your doting wife is in labour, enveloped by a marvellous mental screen: the joyful agony and, then, the definitive ecstasy, or supreme bliss, of being a mother. The exuberance is unmatched by any other, especially for first-time parents. As the tension mounts, you just wait for the good nurse, or doctor, to emerge, and make the all-important announcement. Yet, the fact is, even before you come to grips with yourself, when the good news is broken, you seem to be a totally relieved human being. The joy of it all takes time to sink in, yes. For one simple reason, that, the clock, you reckon, at that momentous hour, seems to stand still.
The role of the mother is all too well known, even sanctified for all its unparalleled worth, down the ages. Since time immemorial too, mothers have been the torch-bearers of every civilisation, or culture, within and outside of their homes. Their mantle affected children directly; it still does. This is a doctrine as old as the hills. It was unlike fathers, whose role was assumed, by and large, to draft their children indirectly through the mother. Not anymore. New research quantifies that fathers influence their children directly, although it is agreed that a certain number of fathers are adequately involved and also bestow significant influence, especially during their child’s early years.
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