Pregnancy brains

Day & Zol

No, I’m not talking about Naomi and her pregnancy hormone induced faux pas. Because even if I did and she read it here, she would have killed me so it wouldn’t be funny anymore.

It’s the waiting staff at restaurants in Singapore. They keep asking if Naomi (who is now 8 months pregnant) would like a glass of wine to go with her dinner.

Right up till last week at Pasta Fresca, where what looked like the captain or lead waiter asked if she’d like a beer, right after he asked if we’d like to sit in the smoking section, which I thought had been completely outlawed since January.

I hope this is limited to the F&B business. I don’t think I’d like real estate agents selling us houses under power lines.

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!