The First Baby Most Men Look After Is Their Own

Most dads don’t get taught how to care for a baby until their own is placed in their arms. No wonder mums become the “default parent” the system is stacked that way.

Thrown in at the Deep End

Our first baby came three weeks early. She was tiny, just 4lb 11oz, and my wife had to be induced because of reduced growth. We had booked onto parenting classes but they didn’t start until six days after she was born. So there I was, a brand-new dad with no clue what I was doing.

Before becoming a dad, the most I’d ever done was hold the odd cousin or niece, maybe bottle-fed once or twice. But nappies? Baths? Nope. Nothing. Suddenly, I was standing in a delivery room, watching my daughter enter the world, and within an hour or two I was left alone with her while my wife showered.

I held her and just talked. I explained her name, told her she was a sperm donor baby, that she had a big family, and most of all, that she was wanted. I was shell shocked, but that moment is seared into me. It is one thing to know you are having a baby, another thing entirely to hold your child and feel the weight of it.

And then came the “I’ve got no bloody clue what I’m doing” moments. Like when I tried cutting her nails and nicked her finger. She bled, and I cried. Or her first bath, where I was so scared of burning her that I ran it far too cold. She screamed, I panicked, and we learned together. She was so small she could fit in the sink.

Why Dads Become the “Default Second Parent”

The thing is, most men don’t get any practice before their own baby arrives. And in the UK, we don’t get the time afterwards either. With our first I was between jobs, so I had loads of time to find my feet. With our second, I was self-employed and barely took time at all. With our third and fourth, I got the statutory two weeks of paternity leave, which was nowhere near enough. When the twins arrived, I had deliberately set up a business that didn’t need me daily, which was just as well because one spent 12 days in NICU.

But for most dads, it is straight back to work. You blink, and mum is the expert because she is the one there. And once that “default parent” label sticks, it is hard to shake. It starts before the baby is even born. You can’t stay overnight in the maternity ward, the health visitor barely looks at you, and when the baby cries it feels easier to hand them back to Mum.

I’ll never forget the time I took my eldest two to a birthday party. One of the mums smiled at me and said, “Mum’s afternoon off, is it?” I told her no, Mum was in hospital with our youngest, who had been admitted five days earlier, and we still didn’t know when she’d be out. That’s how baked-in the assumption is. Dad equals backup. Mum equals parent. Even when you’re holding the fort, people still assume you’re just filling in.

Finding My Way as a Dad

For me, the turning point came in little moments. Settling a crying baby in my arms. Inventing silly games during night-time nappy changes, like pretending my daughter’s belly was a touchpad and her feet were the microphone so I could “make phone calls” with her. Cuddles on the sofa where she would track me across the room with her eyes. That is when I felt like, “Okay, I’ve got this.”

And if this feels hard for me, with a supportive partner, family around, and a flexible business, imagine the dads who are doing this solo. The dads who only see their kids every other weekend. The dads juggling shift work, SEN care, or who are self-employed and don’t qualify for any leave at all. We talk about mums being invisible, and that is true. But dads are invisible too, just in a different way. Expected to provide, not parent.

If I could go back, I would tell new-dad-me three things. Take deep breaths when your baby cries, it is not a test, it is communication. Sing and play with your child no matter who is watching. Prioritise cuddles over cleaning or work, the dishes will wait, the baby won’t.

Being a great dad doesn’t mean never messing up. It means showing up.

Why Hands-On Fatherhood Matters for Kids and Parents

When dads don’t get the time or practice, it is not just us that lose out. Mums carry the whole load, which leads to burnout. Kids miss out on knowing both parents as safe, competent caregivers. And society keeps dragging its feet on gender equality because the “helper dad” story just gets reinforced. It is not fair on anyone.

If you are a new dad and you feel like you are floundering, good. We all do. Hold the baby anyway. Keep the crying baby anyway. Let yourself mess up, because that is the only way either of you learn. One day you will realise they settle faster in your arms, or they laugh at your terrible singing, or they track you with their eyes across the room. That is when you know you have cracked it. Parenting isn’t about perfection. It is about showing up, again and again, until you both believe you can do it.

We need better paternity leave, yes. We need cultural change, yes. But until then, dads, the best thing you can do is refuse to fade into the background. Don’t be the helper. Be the parent. The connection you build in those tiny, ordinary, often messy moments is what lasts.

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Logan

A transgender Dad in the UK. Bringing up 6 kids with my lovely wife. When I’ m not blogging or TikToking, you’ll usually find me in the garden.