Fatherhood, Memory, and the Moments I Got Back. (Reupload)

Joe Horvat
Dec 17, 2025
4 min read

Updated: Jan 29

As most of you probably know, I actually have three kids. When my first two were born, I was in the middle of recovering from a brain injury I sustained at work. Part of that injury affected my memory—at one stage, I couldn’t even remember my now-wife’s name. At the time of the injury, she was three months pregnant, so as you can imagine, it was incredibly tough for both of us.

Fast forward six months, and our first little one was born—but my recovery was far from over. In fact, during that recovery, we had another child. I was there for their early years, but to this day, I don’t remember the first two birthdays of my eldest or the first birthday of my now-middle child. If you want to know more about that time, I’ve shared more in another blog and podcast episode.

Now, seven years on from the injury, I have a beautiful six-month-old daughter—and wow, she has been life-changing for me. Before she was born, I never really acknowledged just how much I’d missed out on with the other kids. That changed the moment Lucy smiled at me for the first time. Her smile broke my heart and filled it at the same time.

The Joy of New Beginnings

Six months on, and I’ve experienced what I call my second firsts—her first laugh, her first roll, even her first poo explosion. As I mentioned earlier, these moments hurt—but they’re also incredibly powerful. I shed a little tear with almost every first, and my heart feels like it grows a little bigger each time.

Now, I’m not saying my other two kids don’t do this to me—I mean, if you’re a parent, you’ll understand how deeply those firsts hit you. Whether you have seven kids or one, their milestones always feel special. So not remembering those moments with my older two really affected me—once I realised what I’d missed.

A Strange Connection

That said, something strange happened. Experiencing these moments with Lucy has made me feel more connected to my other two kids. The feelings of joy, love, and pride that come with those firsts—while I may not remember having them with the older two, I know I must’ve felt them. And that knowledge brings me closer to them in a weird but beautiful way.

I’m genuinely excited for the next round of firsts, not just with Lucy, but with all three of them.

Postnatal Depression in Fathers

Another topic I want to share—something really close to my heart—is postnatal depression in fathers. When my middle child was born, I went through a rough patch with postnatal depression. I don’t remember the time itself, but I remember the feeling like it was yesterday. It’s hard to explain, but the feeling stuck with me: I hated my life. At one point, I even thought about leaving my family and running away. It was horrible.

In some ways, I consider the memory loss a bit of a blessing because those emotions alone are enough to break even the strongest man. My wife will tell you that she was close to leaving too. She described me as withdrawn, completely disconnected from the family, and not supportive in any way. I ended up the heaviest I’ve ever been—putting on nearly 40 kilos in just nine months.

The Wake-Up Call

Now, I don’t blame everything on postnatal depression alone. It was a mix of things: my brain injury, the depression, and me not being able to pull myself together. My wake-up call came when I saw my wife crying, talking to her mum about leaving me. I don’t remember the event clearly, but just thinking about making her feel that way breaks my heart.

That was the moment I started therapy. At one point, I was seeing both a therapist and a parenting coach, just trying to get my life back on track. The reason I’m sharing this is that postnatal depression in fathers is real—and it’s not talked about enough.

The Importance of Proactivity

Even during the pregnancy and birth of Lucy, I was only asked about my mental health once—and they knew I’d experienced postnatal depression before. This time, I knew I needed to be proactive. As soon as I found out my wife was pregnant, I started seeing a therapist. I wanted to prepare my mind and reduce the anxiety I had about going through depression again. I asked family members to keep an eye on me, in case I started slipping again. I even reached out to the hospital chaplain so they could check in on me while I was at the hospital.

I did everything I could to avoid going back to that dark place—and it’s made a huge difference. So back to my point: postnatal depression in fathers is real, and it needs to be talked about more.

A Call to Action

If you’re reading this and you’re about to become a dad—or you’ve just become one—please, talk to someone. Talk to your partner, your mates, your family, your local pub buddy—anyone who’ll listen. It might just save your relationship, your marriage… or your life.

Cheers,

Joe Horvat

Written 04/07/2025