Every night this week I have made a little wish that my son would be born, and be home, before Father’s Day. It’d be a sweet story to tell if he even arrived on the day. But no, he hasn’t come yet and I spent my first Father’s Day giving in utero hugs to my boy.
Next year will be all the sweeter, he’ll be almost 1 and hopefully be able to hug me himself. I cannot wait.
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Boy oh boy this past week has been TOUGH! In the lead-up to the due date I have been at the top of Mt. Adrenaline, 24-7. I never knew it was possible to sustain such excitement and anticipation for so long, it’s making me batty!
Every time I have a spare second I check my mobile to see if the wife has called (even though its ringtone is set to LOUD). Every night I get home I wonder if she’s just gone into labour and not told me until i got back. Every morning I wake up and my shoulders sink a little at knowing I have to go to work another day and not be holding our boy.
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Yesterday was the 30th of August, 12 days before our baby is due but my first guess at when he’ll come along.
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With classes under our belts and the nursery almost done (more to come on my very fatherly achievements on that front), we’ve been making some predictions on when the boy will make his grand entry.
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Last night we checked off an item on the ‘things to do before the kid comes’ list that I’d been looking forward to for a while – we started our antenatal classes at the hospital.
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