Goodbye Twenties, Hello Fatherhood – Week Six

After the inevitable build up to our twenty-week scan, this week’s theme is about the sobering realism of having a baby.

The final scan showed him or her being pretty damn lazy if you ask me. It really didn’t want to play ball with the sonographer this time around. It was quite content to rest its chin on its chest and count the ZZZZ’s.

That was until we were told it needed to be woken up so that vital measurements could be taken. My wife was told that she had to take a heady mix of caffeine-based drinks and to get her nose in a bag of sweets. She was quick to take the sonographer up on the offer; she didn’t need a second invitation. We were also advised to take a tour of hospital and walk to try and kick start some movement and wake junior Carlton from its slumber.

I can only imagine that the caffeine and sweets felt like the 5^th November inside junior’s liquidy home, that’s if they knew the significance of bonfire night, which at this early stage is probably unlikely.  The remedy worked though, it must have felt like the lights had been turned on and the party was about to start. Bump was more amenable this time round and we were able to get some good scan pictures.

Once the sonographer was happy with the measurements she sent us on our way, the next time we would see our little child would be at the beginning of spring. Before we left, we were told all measurements were fine apart from the legs, which were above average in length for this stage of the pregnancy. The sonographer’s parting words were, ‘..but I don’t see that being a problem, I think I know where they come from,’ as she looked at my sprawled out 6 foot 2 inch frame on the school-style chair beside the scanning bed.

So with what could be the last scan completed, it was time to face reality. We had to seriously think about nest building for our long-legged friend. Maybe we should get some quotes for taller doorways? Would it be a good idea to skip the moses basket in favour of a kings size bed perhaps? Shall I hold on to these 34” jeans just in case they can slip straight into them?

I left my wife to her own devices this week. She went shopping, which is dangerous at the best of times; however she is now laden with an ever-growing baby and is plagued by the dreaded baby brain, which instantly renders her incapable of processing thoughts into a meaningful sentence. (She told me about a conversation she had with a work colleague who read The Hungry Caterpillar when they were a child. My wife started her sentence off by saying, ‘When I was a caterpillar….’)

She has now gone into full nesting mode and bought our first packs of nappies. I’ve come to the conclusion that nappies in our household look weird. It’s a little like when you get a new haircut. For the first week or so, it doesn’t look right, it doesn’t look like you, but over time you grow into your new set of coiffed locks. I’m hoping nappies and haircuts are similar.

Most things I buy, give me joy. If I buy a book, I normally enjoy reading it, if I buy food it satisfies my hunger and if I buy alcohol it gets me drunk. Buying nappies just means preparation for baby fallout on the grossest scale.

However, I was enlightened this week.  I now know there is a positive experience to come in the near future. Thanks to knowledge from friends already enjoying the full-on baby experience, I’ve been informed that the day your child squeezes out a proper human shaped excretion, instead of the inconsistent mess that occurs through the early stages of development, is actually one of the proudest moments in a parent’s life. I can’t wait! (When I say human shaped, I don’t mean looking like us with arms and legs, although that would be just amazing. What I meant was, just a plain ol’ regular stool)

My wife’s shopping spree didn’t end with buying tiny little crappy catchers. She also bought its first toy as well. With the whole long-leg issue in mind, I did feel that buying it a toy giraffe was slightly mocking our offspring it before it had even had chance greet the little fella or gal.

Buying toys and nappies have made me more aware that the next few months will literally pass me by in a flash and once we see the backside of Christmas, we will be on the final straight to the finish line. Seeing my wife’s bump grow massively on a daily basis is also sobering, because I know that the bump can only get so big before it comes out screaming. If the legs are really above average in length, then I don’t think junior will be the only one screaming.

Any bad language he or she picks up at an early age can then be fully attributed to Mummy!

On another matter, I can confirm that my wife has never, and will never be a caterpillar.