I never really thought too much about being a parent when I was a younger man, my brothers both have kids and I suppose it was just an inevitable part of life. Like getting married, having a mortgage, holding down a job and dying I guess.

When I first met Claire, who I later married, I was still trying to avoid all of those responsibilities and just have a good time. I was 31.

By the time I was 33 I had changed my views on life and with Claire by my side I felt ready (perhaps even eager) to get stuck into the next phase of my life. I wanted to marry this woman and whether we had kids or not we were going to be a family, my family, our family.

The chances of having children were actually quite slim. Claire had a history of "Plumbing Problems" so we didn't really plan for it. We were too scared of getting our hopes up and being disappointed. So with no pressure on Claire became pregnant after about 6 months of being married. I wasn't ready. This was way too soon. We had good jobs and a great lifestyle. Two foreign holidays a year, 2 new cars on the drive. We were able to indulge our hobbies to an extravagant degree (my 2 bicycles are worth over £2,500!). What I hadn't stopped to notice was that Claire had already started to throttle back on the spending. She was the major earner so her having to give up work was going to put added pressure on me. I was in a daze. None of this really sank in. I just carried on doing my own thing. Even during the pregnancy I didn't really change my ways. I suppose I was scared. I'm still not sure what I was scared of. The end of carefree youth (at 34? Come on!), added responsibility, or just having to become a man? I think it was all of those things and more besides. I had got married to start the next phase, as I said earlier, but this was now no longer in my control. A biological process that I didn't understand had begun and it wouldn't stop until a baby was produced. Or so I thought.

What happened in those next 7 months almost finished me off. Claire had a very difficult time of it. She was just as scared as I was but she was getting on with it. She tried to tell me that all was not well but I didn't listen. The truth is that she was the rock that our marriage was built on and I was an overindulged, overgrown schoolboy. This was exactly how I dealt with difficult issues back then, bury my head in the sand and let nature take its course. Well it sure did. After 7 months and about a week Claire was taken into hospital. I was visiting my brother and being the happy go lucky younger brother. Meanwhile my unborn baby was dying and there was a fair chance my wife was going to die too. Severe pre-eclampsia. I got to the hospital and things were not good. The Consultant assured me that they were doing all that they could and an emergency caesarean was carried out. The baby, a boy was dead. The midwife, Lorraine told me this while her own heart was breaking. I asked the consultant if my wife was going to be ok and she just looked away. After what seemed like an age they wheeled Claire out. She was groggy after the pre-op and she didn't know what had happened. She looked at me and asked, "The baby?" I just shook my head and tried to smile. That night, although at the time I thought the opposite, my marriage was tempered in the fires of Hell and I began to become a man.

In the months that followed I went through a vast range of mixed feelings. I blamed my wife, I blamed myself, I blamed the hospital and I blamed God. Boy did I blame God. I had no relationship with God before this really. Sure I believed in something but it was no more than a vague feeling of there being some order in the Universe, some purpose, some grand design that we humans had a part to play in. But in those spring and summer months I gave up on God. Well you know the cliché I suppose, and it's true, lucky for me, God never gave up on me.

So where does that leave me now? Well 4 and a half years on we have a beautiful 2-year-old girl. How has this affected me? Well you need to ask my friends and family I guess. But I'm pretty sure that they would say that I love my wife maybe more than ever, I face my responsibilities and never shirk difficult decisions. I'm maybe a tad more serious and a hundred times more dependable. I still drink too much, and for a while I was probably trying to drink myself to death, but until I quit for good (which I will because I don't want my little girl to think her Dad's an old soak) at least I'm an affable drunk. I still think about my son every day and wish things had been different. But when I look at my Wife and my daughter I can't help but thank God (thanks again Big Guy) for what I've been blessed with.

Still, I have a long way to go to be the Father, Husband, Companion, Provider and Confident that I think I can be. Despite everything (I know you'll find this hard to believe!) I still mess up and the pressures of being a Parent still frustrate me.