I’ll be thirty two soon. We’re nearly thirty five weeks pregnant. Where did that time go? I’ll have a child when I’m thirty three. Is that too old? I guess not these days. How old was my dad when he had me? Twenty two… twenty three?
I can’t let Debbie see how emotional that SMA advert made me, or I’ll never live it down.
I wonder what our baby looks like now. I’d love another 4D scan. I know it’s too late though. We’ll get to meet him or her for real soon.
I think it’s a boy. We’ll buy blue clothes and I’ll teach him how to ride his bike.
I love her bump. It looks best in her pajamas. It still takes me by surprise when she walks into a room. I helped create that.
I wish I could bottle how I feel right now and keep it forever.
Her eyes are so blue when she cries. I hope her pain eases soon. I hope our baby has her eyes. They’re beautiful.
I think it’s a girl. We’ll buy her pink clothes and I’ll teach her how to ride her bike.
I wish I could feel more kicks. Flump seems to hide from me. She loves playing that game. I can’t wait to read her stories.
I hope I don’t pass out in the delivery suite.
I hope she knows just how proud I am of her.
Next time I go to the dentist, I’ll be a dad.
Am I idealising parenthood? Am I making it out to be bigger than it is? Or more attractive than it is? Or more dramatic than it is? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
Look at those tiny sleep-suits. Our baby will be in one of those soon.
I hope I have the strength and fortitude to be the father I want to be. I’m terrified of failing my new family.
I can’t wait. We could have a baby in less than a month. I can’t even comprehend that.