Fatherhood Might Be Bad For Your Heart: Study

The New York Post isn’t known for its Pulitzer Prize winning articles. Neither am I. Which is why I feel a sort of kinship with the paper. We are not trying to change the world by Journalism-ing, we are trying to entertain the common folk. The point of the Post’s absurd headlines is to get you to pick up a paper (or to click on a link) and they are damn good at both. And though the articles are usually lacking substance (unless written by

Douglas Murray

– who in any other time period would be writing for a more “prestigious” New York newspaper) the one I read yesterday was possibly the worst written article I’ve ever had the displeasure of clicking. The article is titled “Fatherhood Might Be Bad For Your Heart: Study”.

I could have written this article for the Post. I would have said, “No Shit Sherlock”. That would have been the entire piece and it would have been better than the crap that was actually published. It didn’t help that the article was written by a woman who…if I had to guess…doesn’t know anything about being a father. I’m only two and a half years into this thing and I can tell you it’s much different than being a mother. Regardless, I could never simply write three words on a topic and move on. I am the king of beating dead horses, so let’s get to beating…

According to this article the study shows that fathers who are between the ages of 45-85 have worse cardiovascular health than non-fathers. I’m assuming the non-fathers were in the same age group but if this study was conducted in the same way this article was written, then God only knows how they controlled this experiment. The article goes on to say that being a dad can negatively impact lifestyle and heart health. I’d like to take a minute to educate the writer of this article through my own personal pre/post-fatherhood experience.

Pre-Fatherhood

You know what I would have done last night if I wasn’t a father? I’d have skipped out on work around 3:30-4 PM. I would have left my computer on, my work chat up, making it seem like I was logged in for the last remaining hour on a Friday. From there, I would have made my way to the famous Sea Girt bar Parker House and got in line, waiting for “dollar beers” to commence at 5 PM. Instead of sipping on a few dollar beers, saving my wallet and my liver, I would have somehow ended up spending a few hundred dollars on buying anyone beers, accompanied with shots (which of course are overpriced). I would easily have smoked a half pack of cigarettes before Parker House closed around 10 PM and from there I would have headed to either Boat House, Porta, or any other Jersey Shore bar willing to have my stumbling, dumb, drunk ass. From there I would have proceeded to blow another two hundred dollars, finishing off the pack of cigarettes, just touching the edge of blackout. Once I knew the night was over (or I was falling asleep at the bar), I would have hailed a cab home for another hundred bucks, passing out in the back. I would have been woken up by the poor cab driver, lucky to be alive, and I would have tipped him another hundred for not touching me inappropriately (that I know of). Just like that, my week’s paycheck would be gone and my health would be hovering between “near death” and “suicidal”.

Now let’s contrast this with what I did last night.

Post-Fatherhood

First off, I worked until five. It’s imperative that I work a full day and take advantage of any work opportunities that will make me more money. I am a salesman after all. In the words of Blake from Glengarry Glen Ross (and

Amran Gowani

) – “Always Be Closing”. The reason it is imperative that I stay at work until close is that if I don’t make money my daughters don’t eat. It sounds dramatic, but it’s true. Sure, this might “stress me out” or “tax my cardiovascular health” but the beauty of being a parent is you don’t have a fucking choice. From there I went home and my two-year-old ran as fast as she could, screaming, to hug me. I kissed my newborn on the head. I saw my wife looking at me as if she had put her finger into an outlet, one wrong move away from tears or her back blowing out, and decided to avoid her like the plague. It’s not easy staying home with two kids. I concluded that work wasn’t so bad after all. My daughter and I played with toy animals on the floor, then I cooked the family dinner, and put both kids to bed around 7:30. To end the night me and my wife sat in bed, trying to find something to watch for over an hour, and passed out.

By simply reading these last two paragraphs you probably surmised that being a father has drastically increased the healthiness of my lifestyle. If I continued on my pre-fatherhood trajectory my liver would look like a hockey puck and my heart would be one cigarette away from puttering out.

It’s not lifestyle choice or healthy habits that can ruin a father’s ticker – it’s that watching your kids try to navigate the world is fucking heartbreaking. If you don’t have them then it’s almost impossible to explain, but I’ll try.

1 – Every time she almost falls I have a heart attack.

At this stage in my two-year old’s life, she doesn’t have the best balance or hand eye coordination. Every morning that she walks down the stairs she resembles me after ten drinks. Her knees are wobbly, she’s not paying attention, she barely holds on to the railing. I’m watching this knowing that being considered a decent father requires my daughter to develop the basic knowledge of how to walk up and down stairs. What’s worse is she must learn this on her own. There is nothing I can do except watch, holding my breath, as she comes inches away from tumbling down a flight of fifteen steps. If she takes a miss-step, catching her balance forward, and then back, and then forward again, my heart stops for that moment. Once she catches herself, and laughs, and says “Wow, I almost fell,” you would think my heart would go back to its normal beat. It doesn’t. I visualize her falling down and breaking every bone in her body for the remainder of the day and my heart stops every time. Every day is filled with real and imaginary heart attacks. It does not stop.

2 – Every time she does something cute my heart bursts.

On Thursday my daughter asked me to paint her toenails. I cannot accurately explain how big the smile on my face was as I took the red nail polish out, put her feet between my legs, and began butchering her poor toes. It’s probably in the top 3 moments of my life. Though her nails looked like a machine gun had gotten to them, she stood up and said,” Ohhhh I yuv them daddy. Thank you so much”. She gave me the biggest squeeze of a hug and I almost started to cry. My heart could have burst, or exploded, or melted, or any other type of verb that means ceased to exist. I don’t know if this is good or bad for my health, but whatever it is, it’s worth it.

3 – Every time something happens to her my heart breaks.

Having kids is not all rainbows and sunshine. They get hurt. They get hurt A LOT. The worst part of them getting hurt is the three seconds it takes them to realize they are in fact hurt. Their face goes from confusion, to panic, to “what is life?” all in those three seconds and you can’t help but concur with them. Those are the three faces I make when I get up every morning. Then the tears come (not from me in the morning, from my daughter after being hurt…I swear). Your heart breaks for them. Your heart breaks for yourself too because you can’t stop them from feeling the way they are. Letting my kid out into the big bad world will probably be the hardest thing I have to do in this life. I am dreading it. My heart will certainly break a billion more times.

Nested within everyday of being a father is heartbreak, heart attack, and heart explosion. Your heart doesn’t stand a chance. But there is a silver lining, an insane, other worldly silver lining, which was poorly expressed in the NY Post article. According to the study fathers actually live longer than non-fathers. So even after the rantings and ravings about fathers and their unhealthy lifestyles and poor heart health, we still beat the non-fathers when it comes to being alive. Even with a heart that’s a ticking time bomb us fathers find a way to make it through.

I started to question what the article and the study were actually trying to say. Was this a metaphysical piece? Was the point of the article that the mind is stronger than the body or that purpose can overcome biology? Was this a religious piece? Or was it just a poorly written article designed to get dumb fucks like me to write dumb responses? Probably the latter, but who knows? 

What I do know is that no matter how battered your heart is as a father you will always have a purpose in this life, a reason to keep going, which is why I’d always recommend having kids. If anything, you will live long enough for them to put you in a home where hopefully they will return the favor and their heart will break for you (and they will also change your diapers and clean up your drool).

Payback’s a bitch.

P.S. - Thank your parents.