Or, when ignoring the fact the title is the name of an Alfred Hitchcock movie, the 39 weeks.
My wife is 39 weeks (+3) pregnant. Our baby can come anytime. This is hella exciting. Is it nerve-wracking? Bizarrely no. I don’t suggest for one minute I know what I – or we – are doing, nor am I anything less than intrigued by the changes which will be coming but, nervous? No. Ready, excited – looking forward to this wonderful change.
We’re about as ready as we can be too. I mean we had hoped to have had the house decorated but lead paint in the door frames delayed that (we need someone to seal it in and paint on top and we couldn’t get anybody quickly enough after two sets of decorators let us down and a third wanted to sand the paint – a big no no). But we have a cot, a dressing table, changing mats, travel systems, car seat, clothes, muslins, nappies, frozen food for Mummy and Daddy, a heavily pregnant wife with SPD (so painful and I can’t do anything to help relieve it) and much, much more I’m forgetting. Oh yeah, we finished our antenatal classes without giving birth too which pleased me a lot.
I’m actually so becalmed that I’m evolving a kid’s story in my head. I don’t know whether to go for a baby-type execution (like Where’s Spot or similar) where I need good pictures, or a more Winnie The Pooh type one whereby my story needs to be a little more involved. I have a great pun in the title though :).
We’re nearly there. At the end of one chapter we found difficult to begin and hard all the way through. But then the start of another one which will be rather amazing, crazy and much more in-between all on its own.