We embarked on a trip to celebrate my Mum’s birthday this week. Traveling with a pregnant wife has turned what was once a quick, straightforward journey into a story of great adventures; with multiple pee breaks, salty (not sweet for some reason) snacks, backache, indigestion and emotional woes; as you know we like to cry at most things and the hour-long cross-country journey provides plenty of stimulus.
Nothing can be done very quickly anymore. I made the mistake this week of asking my wife to hurry across the road as a car was coming. She less sprung into action as waddled. She used to be fairly convinced that the pregnant waddle was put on for extra attention. She has been proved very wrong.
I also felt our baby kick for the first time… well I may have felt it before but couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just the rumbles of a pregnant lady’s belly. This was definitely a kick. Of course, I dutifully proclaimed him a footballer, ignoring the fact that every baby since the dawn of time has kicked in the womb… and for all I know it could have been a hand or a head.
Being at my parents’ house with all my family in rainy old England felt a bit like Christmas… and that will probably be the next time we are all together. But by the time Christmas comes around our family will be one member bigger…and we are all looking forward to meeting him.