Meet Alfie - our newest Limitless Traveller!
By Angus Drummond -
Last week my life changed for ever. In the best way possible. After 9 months of waiting, and years of hoping, I became a Dad.
On Tuesday 5th December at 21:25 my wonderful wife Lucy gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, weighing 8lb 9, named Alfred John Daniel Drummond.
Seeing him being born was one of the most amazing and life changing experiences. After seeing the true nature of childbirth I have a completely new found respect for all mothers who have gone through it.
Alfie’s birth wasn’t without complication but Lucy did amazingly well and I have so much love for her as a result. Whilst I would never claim to say that the process was difficult for me; it was hard seeing my wife, my best friend who I care so deeply about, in so much pain. But through it all there is no doubt that it brings you closer together, so the emotion you feel as new parents together is out of this world. It was one of the greatest highs I have ever experienced and will likely ever experience. Seeing my baby son for the first time, was an incredible feeling.
On Tuesday 5th December at 21:25 my wonderful wife Lucy gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, weighing 8lb 9, named Alfred John Daniel Drummond.
Seeing him being born was one of the most amazing and life changing experiences. After seeing the true nature of childbirth I have a completely new found respect for all mothers who have gone through it.
Alfie’s birth wasn’t without complication but Lucy did amazingly well and I have so much love for her as a result. Whilst I would never claim to say that the process was difficult for me; it was hard seeing my wife, my best friend who I care so deeply about, in so much pain. But through it all there is no doubt that it brings you closer together, so the emotion you feel as new parents together is out of this world. It was one of the greatest highs I have ever experienced and will likely ever experience. Seeing my baby son for the first time, was an incredible feeling.
But mixed into that was an immense sense of trepidation. I was now a father. I was responsible for somebody else’s life, well-being and future. And just like any other dad, in that moment of seeing my son for the first time, I had this incredible feeling of duty. How on earth am I going to look after this child? How can I ensure he is well looked after? How can I make him a good person? How can I make sure he is happy? This responsibility hit me like a train wreck.
But unlike many other dads, I also had the worries about how on earth am I going to look after this child when I’m disabled? That’s not something they cover in parenting books or antenatal classes.
But unlike many other dads, I also had the worries about how on earth am I going to look after this child when I’m disabled? That’s not something they cover in parenting books or antenatal classes.
5 years ago, aged 24, I was diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy. As I age my muscles will deteriorate and will get weaker to the point where I can’t walk, stand or lift anything. My first reaction was obviously one of disbelief, shock and anger. But then my thoughts turned to my future and specifically how am I going to look after my children. I have always wanted to have children and a big family. But the thought of being disabled, with limited mobility, and having children sounded incompatible.
I wasn’t just worried about the “big things” of looking after my children, but the small things which many others have the luxury of taking for granted. How am I going to hold my child? How am I going to lift my child? What if I fall over when looking after them? These thoughts plagued me and, more than anything else after the diagnosis, were the thoughts that upset me most. I felt that because I was disabled I couldn’t be a good dad to my children.
I wouldn’t be able to play football with them. I wouldn’t be able to play games with them. I wouldn’t be able to take part in sports day. But most of all - I wouldn’t be able to be left alone with them.
And this thought really saddened me. Now that I am a dad this seems incredibly irrational – but in the years between my diagnosis and now it was the most overriding of all. But worse than this, I thought I wouldn’t be able to bond with them and I came to the gut wrenching conclusion that I wouldn’t be a good dad. But I knew that this wasn’t true. Deep down I knew that all you really need is love. I knew I had to change my mind-set so that the worries were quelled by the fact that I would be a great dad even if all I could ever give my children was love.
I wasn’t just worried about the “big things” of looking after my children, but the small things which many others have the luxury of taking for granted. How am I going to hold my child? How am I going to lift my child? What if I fall over when looking after them? These thoughts plagued me and, more than anything else after the diagnosis, were the thoughts that upset me most. I felt that because I was disabled I couldn’t be a good dad to my children.
I wouldn’t be able to play football with them. I wouldn’t be able to play games with them. I wouldn’t be able to take part in sports day. But most of all - I wouldn’t be able to be left alone with them.
And this thought really saddened me. Now that I am a dad this seems incredibly irrational – but in the years between my diagnosis and now it was the most overriding of all. But worse than this, I thought I wouldn’t be able to bond with them and I came to the gut wrenching conclusion that I wouldn’t be a good dad. But I knew that this wasn’t true. Deep down I knew that all you really need is love. I knew I had to change my mind-set so that the worries were quelled by the fact that I would be a great dad even if all I could ever give my children was love.
The first step I took to overcome this fear was to ask myself are there other dads (and mums) out there that are disabled and are doing a great job. Well of course the answer was yes , and they’re doing an amazing job of raising their children. So if there are other parents that are disabled, some in more difficult situations than mine, who are fantastic parents – then what is stopping me?
Nothing. Nothing was stopping me.
It actually got me thinking that being disabled wouldn’t mean I would be a bad dad. Being disabled could mean that I could be an even better dad than I would have been otherwise. I couldn’t rely on the ‘normal’ way of doing things – I would have to teach my children a unique way of doing things. I could teach them from the beginning that everyone is different. I could show them that no matter what life throws at you, you can’t let it beat you. I can let them see that life is an amazing thing you should never take for granted.
They will face problems as they grow and they will have challenges. But, as I’ve learnt coming to terms with my condition, that with the right mind-set and the right attitude you can overcome any problems. That was that and nine months ago Lucy and I made the decision that it was time for us to become parents.
So here I am a week into being a dad and what have I found?
Well first of all they weren’t lying about the sleepless nights! But what you don’t realise until you become a parent is that the tiredness doesn’t matter – as you would do anything for your child at any time of day, no matter how you feel.
But I do realise that parenting will be tough and that being disabled will make it all the more harder. The tiredness affects my body and strength, I feel weaker than usual. I have quickly had to accept that I’m not going to be able to carry the baby whilst standing up or walking around. My arms are tired and I can feel my shoulders getting sore from the increased lifting.
But for all the problems I faced, I have learnt that I can find ways to adapt and compensate. He sleeps in his pram which means that during the night I can push him around the house to get him to sleep rather than have to carry him. The height of the pram can be adjusted to become very high or low which means I can easily take him out at different heights to change him or for a cuddle. And whilst I can’t hold the baby whilst standing or walking – it doesn’t matter. Alfie loves nothing more than lying and sleeping on my chest - which I am happy to do for hours.
Nothing. Nothing was stopping me.
It actually got me thinking that being disabled wouldn’t mean I would be a bad dad. Being disabled could mean that I could be an even better dad than I would have been otherwise. I couldn’t rely on the ‘normal’ way of doing things – I would have to teach my children a unique way of doing things. I could teach them from the beginning that everyone is different. I could show them that no matter what life throws at you, you can’t let it beat you. I can let them see that life is an amazing thing you should never take for granted.
They will face problems as they grow and they will have challenges. But, as I’ve learnt coming to terms with my condition, that with the right mind-set and the right attitude you can overcome any problems. That was that and nine months ago Lucy and I made the decision that it was time for us to become parents.
So here I am a week into being a dad and what have I found?
Well first of all they weren’t lying about the sleepless nights! But what you don’t realise until you become a parent is that the tiredness doesn’t matter – as you would do anything for your child at any time of day, no matter how you feel.
But I do realise that parenting will be tough and that being disabled will make it all the more harder. The tiredness affects my body and strength, I feel weaker than usual. I have quickly had to accept that I’m not going to be able to carry the baby whilst standing up or walking around. My arms are tired and I can feel my shoulders getting sore from the increased lifting.
But for all the problems I faced, I have learnt that I can find ways to adapt and compensate. He sleeps in his pram which means that during the night I can push him around the house to get him to sleep rather than have to carry him. The height of the pram can be adjusted to become very high or low which means I can easily take him out at different heights to change him or for a cuddle. And whilst I can’t hold the baby whilst standing or walking – it doesn’t matter. Alfie loves nothing more than lying and sleeping on my chest - which I am happy to do for hours.
But most of all I have learnt that no matter how restricted I become in my ability to physically look after my children my love for them is like nothing else. And I know that love is all I need to be a great dad.
Related Posts
The Limitless Story
Travel is something that everyone here at Limitless is passionate about, but no one more than our founder & CEO Angus – and it is this travel passion that drives us forward.
Bruges, the town that turns into a Christmas Wonderland
Bruges packs a seriously festive punch for such a small Belgian town – leaving you full of Christmas cheer!
Like and Share
If you liked this article then please help us out by sharing it on social media using the buttons below or exploring our Holiday Opportunities.