I remember when Chelsea first told me that she was pregnant. I was deer hunting and I got out of the woods and had at least 15 texts about needing to call her and at least 6 missed calls. Usually this means I’m in some sort of trouble, and it usually looks similar to this:

Hi

Hello?

Hello???????

????

????????

If this is the series of texts I receive I baton down the hatches because I know a storms-a-comin. This didn’t happen to be one of those times. I called Chelsea back figuring I was in trouble but through spotty service she told me that she was pregnant. If you have been there you know the emotions going through my head after I heard the news. If you haven’t it’s a pretty crazy experience. There was excitement, nervousness, anxiety, stress, happiness. This just scratches the surface of the emotions. I specifically remember sitting in the woods the next day thinking about what kind of father I was going to be and how I was going to get there. I love a good challenge and I can only imagine that being a great father is one of the greatest challenges one can encounter. I LOVE hunting but I distinctly remember not being able to wait until I got home to talk to Chelsea face to face. I got home and Chelsea and I had long discussions about what kind of parents we were going to be and discussed some of the emotions I had previously talked about. I remember being really happy.

The day after Thanksgiving those thoughts and feelings associated with being a future father came to a very abrupt end. My thoughts shifted to my wife, her emotional security and her physical health and that’s where they stayed…that’s where they needed to stay.

Fast forward about 7 months…those two blue lines…and a totally different feeling. The thoughts this time weren’t at all focused on being a father. They sat squarely once again on Chelsea. Of course my mind would wander off at times and wonder what it would be like to be a father, but they would quickly be pulled back and kept in check. Then soon enough my thoughts shifted to my wife, her emotional security and her physical health and that’s where they stayed…that’s where they needed to stay.

Fast forward about 4 months…the decision to adopt. In regular intervals my mind drifted off to what type of father I am going to be. It’s going to be an even bigger challenge because my son/daughter will be adopted…right? I’m up for the challenge; after all I love a good challenge. Well, that didn’t go quite as expected. My thoughts shift to my wife, her emotional security and the focus on our relationship and that’s where they stayed…that’s where they needed to stay.

Fast forward about 5 months (6/18/17)…I know better, but I allow myself to scroll through my social media…the masses of references to Father’s Day posts about feelings of being a father, great fathers, how happy so-and-so is to have so-and-so be their father. Ads everywhere for the perfect gift, articles highlighting a father’s sacrifice for his family, the occasional meme highlighting the comical side of parenting. Walking past the card aisle there is not typically a section labeled “for grieving dads” or “for the loss of a father.” It’s not just miscarriage or infertility that can make Father’s Day a hard day for people. There is estrangement, loss of a father, loss of a child, and some people who haven’t met their father and have some pretty deep wounds.

Most likely two kinds of people are reading this post right now–those who have never had a significant loss and those who nodded along with the last few lines.

If the concept of Father’s Day being difficult never occurred to you, that’s OK. By reading this, you are helping to create a safer space for the second group by spreading awareness that it can be a sad day. It can be something other than a celebration.

Maybe the thought is crossing your mind, “well not everyone experienced a loss like that; can’t you just be happy for them? They deserve to celebrate.” I won’t argue that all of the fathers out there deserve to be celebrated. Just like everyone deserves to feel their feelings and educate the rest of the world on how difficult something can be. Let Father’s Day be both.

Not enough people acknowledge it, and perhaps it is because of the societal pressure to celebrate this day. Without recognizing the grief Father’s Day can trigger, we quietly oppress. It is an act of omission, overlooking sadness on a holiday.

If it’s in your heart to celebrate, then celebrate.

If it’s in your heart to grieve, then grieve.

All I know is that the simplexity of such a seemingly simple “holiday” no longer escapes me.

~Eli