First Time Dad

A blissful eight months!

My wife and I have been pregnant for a little over eight months and those first eight months were pretty blissful. As parents to be, we’re pretty relaxed about the pending child (we have decided not to find out what it is, although we are hoping for something human). My wife has done much of the preparation, she has tirelessly scoured the charity shops for baby clothes, she has read up on everything you possibly could regarding having a baby and she has of course, carried the little scamp around with her at the same time. I on the other hand, have helped in the only way I know how: by not thinking about what is about to be, the single most life changing moment a man can have, without the sudden loss of his genitals (bless you if both of these have happened to you)! Up until this point we’ve had a relatively straightforward pregnancy and physically we’re both in pretty good shape (although I could do with losing a little weight). We’ve not had morning sickness; we’ve not had cravings or any other of those popular pregnancy ailments. To be honest, if it wasn’t for that ‘beach ball’ smuggling stomach of hers, I’d think I was being conned… not anymore!

It all started with my wife finishing work. Now we all know pregnant women are supposed to take it easy, rest their feet to aid the circulation and stop them becoming swollen.  Well this has had an adverse affect on my wife: for she now has regularly some of the biggest fankles (fat ankles) you could ever imagine. How can I be expected to do my husbandly duty of massaging tired feet when there is no definition between foot and leg? Why would the mid-wife feed my wife’s fankles with this rest stuff? And in turn, starve our spending capabilities! (I have asked the mid-wife this question and I can only imagine with her silence that she was deeply sorry for lying to my wife).  In recent days the swollen limbs have spread to the hands. So much so that my wife was forced to remove her wedding ring in case they had to cut it off (the ring that is not her hand).  It could of course have been an attempt at saying that our marriage is over…? Anyway, the swollen limbs thing has only started since the stopping of the work and the starting of the rest. I have even gone to the groundbreaking step of suggesting my wife go back to work! However, my wife it seems is not as forward thinking as me and this revolutionary idea was met with a face that the mid-wife said would only be seen again when we were at the point of childbirth itself. I feel the mid-wife may be taking sides.

My wife and I are sat on the sofa with our feet elevated on the coffee table talking about the impending birth. ‘It will be easier next time’ I say ‘we’ll know what to expect’. My wife informs me that there might not be a next time and that the act of pregnancy is only the beginning and that parenthood is going to be the real test. I give her a pained look (a look that if seen by a mid-wife, would be quickly followed by an examination of my cervix) ‘I’m going to be a Father’ I say, ‘Yes’ she says and with that my illusion is shattered and  I am left longing for those first blissful eight months.