February 10th, 2026
It is well known that pregnancy triggers a whole cascade of hormonal changes designed to create the best possible conditions for caring and bonding in early motherhood. Rising oxytocin levels, in particular, are thought to increase empathy, connection, nesting behaviour and are known to stimulate labour and breastfeeding. For this reason, it’s often referred to as the “love hormone.” (Modak et al, 2023).
Recently, interest has been shown in the parallel hormonal processes for expectant dads (Rilling et al, 2025), but the path toward father–child attachment seems to rely less on clear biological drivers and more on psychosocial factors. For simplicity, I’ll use the word “dads”, though everything described here applies equally to any non-gestating parent or partner accompanying the pregnancy.
Postnatal sensitive parenting in dads, for example, has been found to be related to their involvement in prenatal activities such as attending and participating in ultrasound visits. In a study of expectant couples, greater partner closeness during pregnancy predicted stronger parent-child bonding after birth for dads as well as mums (Michałek-Kwiecień et al, 2022).
In other words, whilst oxytocin levels in expectant dads do rise during pregnancy and there is some evidence that this could relate to parental bonding (Saxbe et al, 2023), it appears that dads’ preparation for parental bonding is more relational than biological.
With this in mind, I’d like to explore, through a few analogies, how the bonding process can differ between mums and dads, and how different forms of father-child connection can emerge over time.
To do this, let’s borrow some imagery from nature and agriculture. We can think of three kinds of ecosystems that I will use to represent different kinds of bonding:
Wild forest:
a self-generating, complex ecosystem that evolves naturally without direct human input.
Vegetable garden:
a cultivated system, dependent on regular care and external inputs.
Forest garden:
a hybrid – initially cultivated but, over time, becoming self-sustaining. It’s an agroforestry technique from permaculture: a design system that mimics natural processes to create landscapes to meet human needs.
As a dad, bonding with our child initially requires work and patience. But as the connection grows, it can become self-renewing – complex, adaptable, and deeply rewarding. Over time, the origins of that bond become less obvious. Just as a carefully tended forest garden gradually over time can resemble a wild forest, the father–child bond can develop into something resembling the mother-child bond, even if it looked different at the beginning. Still, both in parenting and in nature, some could argue that something intangible can always distinguish what grows naturally from what has required cultivation.
Extending the analogy, the traditional dad – the “breadwinner dad” – can be seen as tending more of a vegetable garden. This type of garden is not self-renewing and depends on constant input and maintenance. Its root systems lack the depth and complexity of a forest’s. It can be productive but limited: it yields what we deliberately plant, and when we stop tending it, it quickly withers. Likewise, the bond formed through providing only material or practical support – money, lifts, discipline, advice – can feel narrow or fragile. The worry is that if we stop “providing,” we lose our purpose, and the bond fades like an untended garden.
The forest garden offers a more hopeful metaphor for fatherhood. It begins with intentional cultivation – spending time, showing patience, learning to understand our child – but with time, the relationship becomes self-sustaining. Shared experiences, emotional attunement, and trust form a deep, interwoven root system that keeps growing on its own. The forest garden doesn’t compete with the wild forest; it coexists. Their flowers cross-pollinate, and their root systems intertwine underground. In the same way, the father–child bond doesn’t need to replace or ever compete with the maternal bond – it complements and strengthens the whole family ecosystem.
Of course, like all analogies, this one has limits. It reflects the perspective of the non-gestating partner and isn’t meant to suggest that the maternal bond is simply effortless. Motherhood brings its own immense challenges – postnatal depression, difficulties with breastfeeding, exhaustion – and nature gives the gestating parent certain biological “head starts” precisely because of the magnitude of that responsibility.
Taking the analogy another step further, we can also recognise another essential role for fathers – and indeed for the whole community around the mother: to protect and nurture the wild forest so that the natural mother–child bond can take its course. Wild forests are resilient, but they’re also vulnerable to disruption and destruction. Preserving them takes attention and care. Similarly, a supportive environment allows the maternal bond to flourish – and once that foundation is secure, our own cultivated bonds can grow naturally alongside it.
The ‘forest garden’ bonding approach offers many potential benefits to us as dads and to the family as a whole. I have worked with many dads who feel burnt-out and underappreciated, or only appreciated in a very limited conditional sense: I am valued and useful as long as I keep providing a roof over our heads and logistical support, for example.
This, over time, can generate resentment and isolation, and fantasies of escaping. Mirroring this, I have also worked with many people who feel that when growing up, they lacked an emotionally present father: preoccupied with material things and struggled to bond with them in a deeper way. As well as the father-child impacts, it is also well recognised now that a dad who is more involved and integrated into the family system is a protective factor for post-partum depression in mothers (McCann et al, 2024).
With the right attitude and the right conditions, both forests can thrive, and in time, the forest garden we’ve tended may grow into something just as rich, deep, and alive as the wild forest alongside it.
There is no blueprint for what a father-child relationship should look like, as each will be unique and conditioned by culture, circumstances, and personalities. Taking the time to reflect on how you want to approach this is about finding what fits best for you and your family. Whether you are alreay a parent, about to be one, or considering it, I'd love to hear from you if this topic is something you want to explore further.