It’s Ok.

There’s a lot of pressure to know immediately what you want to do with your life. It’s ok to not know.

Most of the fun is in the figuring out … it’s taking me a decade to come to that realisation.

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Losing the Lottery.

It sort of feels like being given a winning lottery ticket only to watch it disappear in a freak tornado that destroys everything and changes your life for the worse.

Being told there’s nothing there,

No baby,

No life,

No son or daughter.

Just a 12 week old foetal sac providing a home for no current occupant.

Tears would be the most obvious first response and certainly it was Kelly’s but for me my instant emotion was anger. Anger at myself – ‘This is because I ignored my Mums phone call last week and didn’t ring her back’

This is because I cheated on my ex and left her heartbroken.

This is because I’ve been a rubbish Uncle.

This is because I don’t recycle …

This is because … because … because.

Blaming a karma domino-affect that has been lurking to pounce on your happiest moment for years like a burglar in the shadows.

The miscarriage meant I didn’t want to write anything, for a while anyway. It’s been 3 months since it happened and the tired cliché ‘time is a great healer’ is utter bollocks. It still feels shit.

We are trying again, but I am sceptical, my optimism has been shattered a little but hopefully great news is just around the corner.

I hope.

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Like booking a Holiday… But way more expensive

Since my last post, things have been really quiet.

I liken the experience of having our first baby so far to booking a holiday, for the first few days you are mega excited, telling everyone and anyone, deciding what you are going to do when the holiday arrives. Every thought is about the holiday, every conversation at least touches on it.

But then as the calm descends, all the family members and close friends have been told, normality (of sorts) resumes for a while.

Yesterday we got a call from the Midwife, our Midwife. She has booked us in for a scan(s) this Wednesday (today is Monday) and a check-up thingy majiggy (I forget the exact details).

Yesterday Kelly went for her ‘bloods doing’ which basically meant she was pricked 3 or 4 times to check for various issues that could affect the baby – Such as Syphilis. I am desperately hoping that one comes back negativeYou can’t get syphilis from dodgy prawns right?

We haven’t made the pregnancy ‘Facebook Official’ yet, as we aren’t sure if Kelly is 9 or 12 weeks gone, we have decided to wait till we are absolutely certain before making the announcement Social.

I think for us, it would be too hard to bear to have to announce to all and sundry if on our first scan on Wednesday there was some sort of issue. I am the point now where my world would collapse if for whatever reason Fatherhood was ripped away from me – The one thing they don’t warn you about is the unrelenting worry you feel above every other emotion, happiness takes a back seat to all consuming fear – I think I will feel better once we move into the Second Trimester.

I hope.

I’m sorry if this post seems a little boring, I think today everything seems slightly more real and the logistics of having this baby are paving over the initial feelings of excitement.

I will update Wednesday after the first scan.

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Still.

Day 2 1/2,

Still harvesting a poo-farm in my pants over the realisation that I’m (fingers crossed) to become a days in close to 7 months.

Still getting my heard around words like postnatal, antenatal, Fetal Dopper and sonogram.

Still worried that financially and emotionally I won’t be able to provide for this Child.

Still the most happy I have ever been in my entire 26 years of existence.

Still thanking God or whoever for giving us this gift.

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9 months and counting.

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Fuck.

I’ve said that word a million times in my life, as a verb, as an adjective, and on many occasions just because I can. But never have I meant the word more than when I saw that Blue Cross on the Clearblue pregnancy test appear as bold as next-doors Cat who stares at you through the living-room window while he shits on ya‘ lawn.

I think it was the only word I did mutter for a few seconds, but it was a good thing. A happy Fuck.

Even though we hadn’t been trying for a baby, I had sensed for the most part of our 2.5 year relationship that it was something we were both wanting, even if it wasn’t ‘agreed’ upon per say.

Tears were shed, instructions were double checked and parents were called. (Thus leading to more shed tears, mainly on their part this time).

I am glossing over the finer details of the events as for me this blog is going to become a place for me to spout my verbal diarrhea and offload my anxieties as an expectant 26-year-old Father with little to no knowledge of parenting…. Wow, just writing the word Father seems strange at this point.

It will be more a place to share my thoughts and feelings (WUSS!) as I come to terms with my GF’s changing body and our changing lives as she creates a life.

For now, this will do – Blog posts don’t have a minimum word count right?!

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