Of ovens and buns

[dalekboy]

If you're seeing this post, you're one of the four people we've told early about shazgirl being up-the-duff. Within a week there will be two more and then we're quiet until we hit the magical 12 week mark and are sure that everything is progressing normally.

Shaz and I had decided to celebrate when we found out that I had a mini-stroke rather than a debilitating illness of some description. She suggested yesterday that we go out to dinner to celebrate my stroke, and told me she'd bought me a little prezzie. I have a lot of stuff I'm trying to get done with low energy levels and very little time and, as it happened yesterday, lots of pain. I said I'd see how I went when she got home.

She got home and I was tired and in pain to the point of tears, stressed, and generally kind of crap. But I also knew I was about to go away and that I wouldn't see her for about a month, so figured the least I could do was go out to tea with my wife. Who, I might add, had been striking me as increasingly beautiful over the last week or two.

Yes, she had been glowing.

I was aware of this. I knew her period was late and had started to wonder if she may have been pregnant. There were certainly signs that pointed in that general direction, the lateness of her period, her guts playing up in weird ways, but given Sharon's already weird cycle, and how often there's something giving her a funny stomach, I also knew that these were in no way conclusive enough to take too seriously until we'd done a test.

We go out and we're chatting on the drive. And I comment, "You know, if you were preggers now, it would really bugger my 40th birthday plans... Mind you, it's not like I would really care in that case." I often put my foot in my mouth, but I do so love when I manage to say exactly the right thing.

So we're eating dinner and talking. I'm fading fast, in a great deal of pain, but having a nice time with my wife. It's just getting to the point where I'm going to have to ask to be taken home and she pulls out a gold box tied with a purple ribbon. Moment of confusion. Ah! My present!

She hands to me and says, "It's only small, but I think you'll like it."

I open the box and see this -




I'm pretty tired, so the first thing I think is, 'Why did she give me a pen?' Then I see the two little windows, with the stripe in each. 'Hang on, what? Do they mean what I think they do?' Looks at little explanation of lines, confirms what I'm thinking. I look at Sharon and my mouth, still not caught up with my brain, says "Really?"

Yes, really.

"That is very cool," say I, sitting there stunned. I'm gunna be a Dad!

Sharon leans forward, pulls out the card and hands it to me. I had totally not taken in anything else in the box beyond the 'pen'. Like, how did those bloody booties get in there? They weren't in there before, surely...

I look at the card.



And feel like crying.

So we talk about stuff, as you do. Given how weird my life has been the last four years or so, this would go an awfully long way to explaining my recent way over the top emotions and bouncing hormones... while Sharon sails by sedately in the first weeks of her pregnancy, I go to pieces like John Cobb on Loch Ness!

But it's all cool. I've been quietly preparing for this for a while. A lot of the attitudes and ideas I need are in place and ready to shift and change as they need. And of course, most of them will get thrown out as other practicalities and realities take hold.

I SMSed a couple of the important people immediately. Will probably yak with them both today. Got home and we told my mum, who was thrilled, and Sharon's mum, who was also thrilled.

Baby will be due around the end of November. I'm hoping for the 23rd, because I can't think of a better way to celebrate Doctor Who's 40th anniversary than with the birth of a new DW fan.

Of course, if she grows up to be a Star Trek fan, I'll disown her.