Last night I felt my boy kick me through Kirsty’s belly. He’s not quite ready to say “Morning Dad” yet but in a few short weeks he’ll arrive and we’ll both get to meet him for the first time and find out if his lungs are as powerful as his foot.
Seven months of pregnancy have rushed by like an avalanche of thoughts, fears and plans. At 37 I’m a little older than the average new dad but I feel ready for this major step, something I certainly wouldn’t have said a couple of years back. My thought processes have been fairly steadfast. A week of “oh my god” in the beginning and a few “are we actually doing this?” moments since have been bubble wrapped in the excitement and trepidation that has taken over our every day life. Our first day in Mothercare looking for a buggy was a crash course experience where everyone seemed to know what to do and which overly priced cart we should buy while we listened and learned like eager beavers. After a few months of speaking to various professional parents (and hope-to-be’s and never-want-to-be’s) I see now how the grand baby plan works.
There isn’t one. Every baby is different and everyone has an opinion and the only way we’ll know what to do is to try absolutely everything and find out what works for our little atom ball from day one. We were in Alton Towers last year and I can see that our due date will be a little bit like being on the Oblivion ride. Right now we’re riding away from the entrance, all excited and nervy, building up to the big overhang (which I did with my eyes closed I seem to recall…..). Once that little boy is here, we are dropped at high speed into a whole new world of challenge and frustration, love and devotion.
As I said, I rode Oblivion with my eyes shut. In spite of the hugeness of what we are about to face, my eyes are and will be well and truly open. Because I genuinely can’t wait to say “good morning” to my new born son for the first time.