Halfway there

One of the fun­nier moments in the last 20 weeks was com­prised of me, sit­ting in the ob-gyn’s office, react­ing to the ob-gyn’s indi­cat­ing on the ultra­sound that Naomi and I would very likely be hav­ing a baby boy instead of a girl which I had so con­fi­dently pre­dicted pre­vi­ously “because I can just feel it”.

I went, “oh”.

The Ob-Gyn asked if I was dis­ap­pointed while Naomi laughed as hard as she could, teas­ing me about being so sure previously.

So, yes, we are expect­ing, and while it hasn’t been com­pletely smooth sail­ing, we are both very excited and ner­vous — being first timers and all, and being close to being buried by the tons of infor­ma­tion on the inter­net, in books (the Kino dis­count card is handy) and magazines.

Con­flict­ing dietary advice has also been com­ing in from many well-meaning fam­ily mem­bers and friends, and while we’re try­ing to let com­mon sense be the final arbiter in dif­fi­cult choices, it can still be wor­ry­ing (e.g. oh no, I’ve eaten 2 man­goes in a week already, and now they say can­not eat mango, how ah?)

Being expec­tant par­ents also explains our indif­fer­ence at our Krups break­ing down again as we’ve both gone off cof­fee (I still have the occa­sional espresso but my tol­er­ance for caffeine’s gone down tremen­dously — one dou­ble shot and I’m climb­ing walls like spi­der­man on um… caf­feine), while Naomi’s crav­ings have been inter­est­ing with­out being bizarre.

Some­times it feels as if we’re oper­at­ing a short order kitchen — sand­wiches, pasta, chips — as the books say Naomi should eat smaller but more fre­quent meals.

The books don’t say any­thing about expec­tant dad­dies gain­ing weight because the expec­tant mum­mies can’t fin­ish their food. Well, they do, and I have put on 5kg since and I can’t fit into my jeans any more.

Naomi’s gonna be a Mummy! And I is gonna be a fat daddy!