Diary of UK parenthood from a father's perspective
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Labour Day
The Blog may be new (I realise now that it may have been more prudent to start this at the beginning of pregnancy...) but the last stretch of the ordeal is finally here!
Leela went into labour at about 11 O'clock last night and now, at quarter to six in the evening, the contractions are incapacitatingly strong and the poor girl's waddling around desperatley trying to speed things up by staying as active as possible (I've got her cleaning the bathroom as we speak...).
So as the end looms ever closer to the beginning - I shall share with you some advice and reflections on the last 9 months:
- Ultrasound Blows me away. What with the various problems Leela has had during this pregnancy, we have ended up having more ultrasound scans than you would get in a normal pregnancy - And everytime we go, I've left with a smile on my face. The stills you get given really don't do the moving image justice. The detail is incredibly fine and suprisingly easy to decipher. There's not been one scan (apart from the first, where he looked more like a maggot in a balloon than a person) where i've had difficulty in seeing him clearly. Perhaps I should get a job a sonographer...
- There's nothing quite so funny as seeing a grown woman waddling.
- Conversation becomes a delicate process during pregnancy. Questions such as "Do I look fat?" can open a can of worms that seems damn near impossible to close again. If you (bending the truth) say "Not at all, love, you look as lovely as ever", you can be assured this will be met with responses such as "Yeah, right" or "Why can't you just be honest, I can take it you know".
Similarly, 'honest' responses ("Well, you may have put on a few pounds, but it's for a reason"; "Not fat, a little plump, but you're still gorgeous"; "Shutup chubby and put the kettle on"), though logically should provide the least explosive response will almost certainly end up getting you a week in the doghouse and months of "Yeah well, you think I look fat anyway" brush-offs.
"But this is just like any other day" I hear you all cry. Well, until you've faced the withering looks and venemous, crushing remarks that a pregnant woman can conjure up, I assure - every other day is a picnic. My advice? Just be honest. State the facts and tell the truth - at least you can't be shouted at for lying as well.
Ah, but I'm being too harsh. Despite my initially dubious emotional connection to the bump - it has been a joy to see him, and Leela, grow. And now that the end is shining brightly in sight, I can't wait to meet the little bugger.
Funny - anyone else who spent as much time with my wife, made her cry as much, kicked her in the guts as often, and stopped me sleeping with her would be a target for my anger, jealousy and fists, not my love...
posted by josus at 5:40 PM
