With Debora now officially on maternity leave, the waiting game has begun. Every alert on my phone is like a panic attack waiting to happen, not that Debora would announce she has gone into labour by a text, email or push notification from Tapped Out, but the emotion is there.
To add to the tension headache I have every day is probably how blissfully ignorant I am to everything that we need to do once the baby does arrive. I’ve not watched any nappy changing tutorials, I have no idea on how to prepare a bottle, nor do I even know how to squeeze the little fella into clothes. What should a normal new born routine be? How many hours of sleep can I actually expect to get and if I bulk buy nappies, can I get a refund once he grows out of them? That and we STILL don’t have a name for him. In every other way, we’re ready. The furniture, the toys, clothing and the will is all there, if the knowledge isn’t.
I always believed that when the day came I found out I would have a child I’d use those nine months to prepare, to study, to be ready for life. I have not done this. Instead I’ve gone on how I got through most of my exams, last minute panic and sheer blind luck. On some level, I still don’t really believe it’s happening, despite seeing Debora grow and groan week on week and watching that little grey fleck beat at every scan. I’m not sure if it’s that I don’t believe a guy like me could be so lucky or possess the ability to spawn offspring in the first place.
Therefore, I’d like to take this opportunity to apologise to the unborn new-born for my unfamiliarity with how things should be done. If I don’t read your signals correctly, please give me the benefit of the doubt. I’m still learning and the information I acquire will be passed down to you. If you could just stay in there a little longer so I can actually do some studying and only decide to enter this world when I’m nearby, that’d be appreciated!