her, though, I didn’t want her to see how wide I was holding my eyes open. I squeezed her hand a little, just to let her know I was there for her.
We had far too many sweets in the cinema; I knew I shouldn’t have topped up with popcorn and ice cream. I wanted Alison to know that I knew how to treat a girl, though.
We were both sick when we got home, Alison through ‘morning’ sickness. Me, I was sick just through intake. I’m not sure I’ve had as much sugar since I was a child and ate all my Christmas selection box before dinner.
Still, I got to spend the evening with the woman in my life, even if we did pass out from a sugar crash.
Wednesday February 15th 2012
I’ve consulted my book and Alison shouldn’t be eating all the sugar we did yesterday. It isn’t good for baby and Alison could end up being diabetic, so it seems that I’ve put my girlfriend and my unborn at risk for the sake of a Valentine’s present.
When I got home tonight Alison was still in her dressing gown. She hasn’t done anything today. I asked if she was still feeling sick, and she told me that it was worse today. I decided not to tell her about the sugar. I’ll tell her when she has forgotten about my poisoning attempt yesterday.
Saturday February 18th 2012
Tonight we went to a play Alison insisted she wanted to see. I wasn’t really interested in seeing this or any other play, particularly, but I was interested in seeing Alison, as I haven’t seen her for a couple of days. The play itself wasn’t bad, but I couldn’t help but judge the woman playing the queen; she was flouncing about on the stage, waffling on about how she felt about the kitchen hand and how it wouldn’t be right for her to ravage him. When she did get round to taking all his clothes off, she discovered the kitchen hand wasn’t a he, but a she. Then it was double taboo time: she wanted to have the poor girl beheaded for treason, then at the last minute realised she couldn’t, as she loved her, and that it was all her fault for having such sexist laws of the land that it meant women could only work in the garden or on the market. That was about it. It was mainly just a monologue from the queen and her angst about being an arse, which she was. She needed to accept that.
I can’t remember the last time I went to the theatre. I think it must have been when I was at school and they took us to see Johnny Ball. Tonight was more enjoyable than that and not just because the company I was in wasn’t shoving popcorn down my shirt.
Alison and I walked home; it was a nice evening for February. We didn’t get too heavy into conversation about our fears of what is going to happen and how things are going to be. It was just nice to get out and have a normal evening. We’re still getting to know each other, really. With all that’s gone on in the short time we’ve known each other, I forget sometimes that I’ve only known Alison a couple of months. The more I get to know her, though, the more I like her.
Sunday February 19th 2012
Alison is convinced that she can feel something moving inside her. I’m not so sure, though; it’s only been a few weeks. I certainly couldn’t feel anything when I put my hand there. I double checked.
We looked at the BBC website as they have pictures on there. The baby looks like a cross between a dinosaur and a manatee. It’s not a pretty sight at this stage. I started to get a bit competitive about things and started to actively prove Alison wrong about feeling the baby. It turns out I was right, we won’t start feeling anything until at least weeks sixteen or seventeen. I didn’t feel like I’d won, though. Alison just became upset and went to lie down.
I stayed up looking at the BBC site some more. There is absolutely loads of information on there. It’s all in week by week sections. It’s amazing what the human body – well, two human bodies – can produce between them. The baby grows from nothing into something baby-shaped, really tiny, but nevertheless, baby-shaped in less than twelve weeks. The nature side of things really is miraculous.
I haven’t paid my TV licence in years. I might start to after I’ve found one thing that’s worth looking at on a BBC site/channel. They’ve done really well.
It was midnight when I’d finished going through all the weeks.
I might take tomorrow off; I don’t know if I can be bothered listening to whatever Boris did at the weekend.
Saturday February 25th 2012
Alison dragged me into town today, she wanted to buy her own microphone machine to listen to her belly. I’ve learnt two things today: 1) that the machines are called doppler machines and 2) no one who works in electrical shops knows they are called this. It took visits to Argos, Comet, PC World (Alison's idea) and finally Mothercare to find one. Still, she got one in the end, then spent almost as much on the cream that comes with it.
Alison spent the rest of the day listening to her belly through the machine. It sounds like a 1980s scanner that you’re trying to listen to the police on. There’s far too much crackling and not enough action. The baby actually moves about, too, which doesn’t help. I don’t suppose being prodded with something through the wall is an enjoyable experience though. I’d move away.
While I was catching up on my emails, I could hear Alison on the phone to her mother, the machine crackling away. I think she went through her phone book ringing everyone she knows. I didn’t see her again until much later. She was happy, though; she’s started the bonding process.
I’ve listened a few times and it’s good to hear that the heart is still beating, but I don’t feel the need to keep checking.
Saturday March 10th 2012
I’ve not written much for a while as it’s mainly been a case of holding back Alison’s hair and her continuing to staying at mine. I still don’t know if she’s actually moved in or not. She hasn’t left for almost a month now. Well, she’s left the flat, but only to go to the doctor’s or the health food shop, and most of the time I do that for her. I don’t know how to confirm the situation. It seems rude just to ask, but surely we need to be clear as to what the situation is. She seems quite happy being here. I could do with my own space a bit, though.
Maybe I should suggest she pops back to hers and then hide when she gets back. Or I could find an illness on the Internet that is bad for pregnant woman and then pretend I have it, then she’ll have to go home.
It’s not that I’m heartless or anything, I just want … no, need … time for me. We’ve not even been together long enough to live together. I’m going to stop thinking about it because all I do is worry that we’re not ready to have a baby.
Mum and Dad have popped round a couple of times and have brought special sleeping pillows for Alison. Mum also had some potions that worked for her when she had gas and indigestion. I’m glad she did, as the burps Alison has been doing have been less than ladylike to say the least. She won’t need the pillows for a while yet, but from what I’ve read in my book and on the BBC site, come the months when the bump really starts coming out, she’ll be really uncomfortable in the night. I’ll probably have to get the spare room set up for me. I’ll be a gentleman and let her stay in the big bed.
Got to go – I can hear Alison throwing up. It’s hair-holding time. I’m sure once we’ve finished doing that, we’ll be checking what the doppler machine is saying.
9.00 p.m.
Alison spoke to me today about the Down’s thing. It wasn't the, 'Sit down, Graham,' talk I thought it would be, it was more a, 'By the way, we'll be able to find out if it's got Down’s syndrome tomorrow if we want'. That was it. Just a passing observation.
I'm still unsure, Diary. What if I'm not as caring as I think I am and I hit the red button before thinking it through? That the type of thing that can mess a man up for life. I did think about telling Alison that we should just leave it to nature, but she was so blasé about it, I didn't want to make a scene.
I'll sleep on it.
Monday March 12th 2012
I decided to tell Jane about the baby today. I need to take Wednesday off work for the first scan and thought I might be able to wangle the time off as carer’s leave or
something, rather than annual leave. I reckoned it was worth a try, anyway. I didn’t think she’d have a problem with it, everyone else I’ve told so far has been overjoyed, but outwardly she didn’t look overly pleased about the situation. Sometimes you can just tell when someone is being off with you and this was one of those times. Her words just didn’t match her actions. She told me that she’d need to check with HR but she thought that I’d need to use my leave for it. I’m sure I saw her sneer as she headed out the kitchen.
Later she returned and confirmed that I would need to use my leave and that in future I needed to book time off in advance. I did point out that this was in advance, but she just raised her eyebrows. Before she could say anything else, though, she spotted Boris sneaking off out the kitchen and went off to drag him back in.
Tuesday March 13th 2012
8.00 a.m.
I had a dream last night that I dropped the baby. The baby was born and it was a little girl, I was trying to change her on the bed and she was rolling about, messing around, and I picked her up to stop her rolling off the side of the bed, then dropped her as she was wriggling. In the dream Alison came running just as I was picking the poor baby up. She wasn’t moving. All of a sudden the room was filled with everyone I went to school
The Diary Of An Expectant Father (The Diary Of A Father Book 1) Page 6