Second child was due on Saturday but so far hasn’t shown any inclination to make an appearance, which means I have to go to work next week when I was all geared up to start my paternity leave.* Our first was born on his due date, a rare occurrence which demonstrated a level of punctuality that he almost certainly inherited from his mother – I despise people who are on time for everything, and I’m glad the next one has decided to be late.
The whole thing is a completely different picture this time around. Obviously the first time we did it the whole experience was a bit like, woah, fuck, we’re having a baby, that’s MASSIVE, but this time it feels a bit more routine and mundane with only the slightest frisson of nervousness, like we’re sending the car for an MOT and hoping there aren’t going to be any nasty surprises on the bill. Kind of.
Because I’m so terribly important these days, work just keeps getting workier and there’s been plenty of stuff at the office to keep me occupied recently, so it’s been fairly easy to not think about the impending arrival. But now it’s almost here, I’m forced to finally acknowledge that we are in fact going to have another baby very soon, so I should probably try to be at least a little mentally prepared. Child number one has turned out to be an absolute star, he’s funny, cute, clever, and an all round welcome addition to our lives – he occupies such a huge space in my heart that it’s hard to imagine how I’d be able to love another child quite as much. Maybe I won’t, maybe child number two will turn out to have none of his brother’s charm and charisma, so we’ll just make him live in the shed and feed him on scraps.
But anyway. He’s still not here, and we’re stuck in the weird limbo of the soon-to-be-parents. It could be tonight, it could be two weeks from now, we just have to be ready to drop everything when it happens. I can handle this because I’ve always been a bit of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, make-it-up-as-we-go-along kinda guy, but wife likes life to be properly organised and planned, so it isn’t really her cup of tea at all. I suppose lugging a bowling ball around in her stomach probably isn’t helping her mood either, but she should have thought about that before she let some guy knock her up.
*Interesting discussion with gay colleague: “It’s completely unfair that you dirty breeders get free time off for having babies. If I get a new dog or something, am I allowed an extra two week’s paid holiday?”