minutes to remember that I'd been washing up before Bev came to see me, by which time the water was cold and I had to go student on the job. It’s just the same as hot, only you have to scrub harder.
This evening I tried a different tack and asked Alison again what she thought the best thing about having a boy would be. Alison just smiled and said that he’d be her little man.
It will be pretty cool to have a little man running about the place.
I’ve decided that I project too much. I think about and worry about things that are too far in the future to do anything about. I’m not sure how to stop doing it, but there must be a way. Not everyone does it. Alison is very good at just living in the day; she is happy with it too.
Tonight I’ve been worrying about being worried about everything. It’s a circle that I need to break. I did do some Internet searching this evening, but it didn’t help … I just found myself on a load of depression forums with all the miserable people who are talking about similar, but not the same things. I’m not depressed, I’m just different. I’m going to ring the doctor's in the morning and see if there is anything they can do to help me; I can’t be the only person in the world that has this problem. Surely it doesn’t mean I’m depressed, like the people I came across this evening.
Monday June 11th 2012
Living with a pregnant person has very few benefits. Being made to sleep on your own sofa is one of the low points. The last couple of weeks have been up and down, Alison has been at work when I get home so I’ve had a couple of hours to myself most days. I hope there’s no more arguments to come. We’ve not rowed since the other week and I’ve managed to get her to eat at least two meals a day. She won’t have breakfast no matter how much I nag as she says waking up pregnant is only comparable to waking up with a hangover.
I have now spoken to the college again and I am signed up for the interpersonal skills course, which is to run in January. They’ve decided not to run it in September. I’ve paid the minimum deposit and won’t be able to save this week, but it’s booked and all I have to do is make sure I pay the rest of the £300 fee before it starts. I’ve got it all worked out and if I ride my bike to work instead of taking the bus, then I can still afford to save £20 a week and cover the college. I’ll also have to cut out buying chocolate bars, but then if I’m on my bike I won’t be walking past any shops so unless I’m painfully addicted, I'll be okay. I don’t think I am, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.
I’ve just realised that I am sounding more and more grown up. I’m not sure how I feel about this. Maybe I should go out with Keith and re-live my youth again.
Thursday June 14th 2012
My birthday.
So I’m now twenty-nine. This time last year I was just about to go on holiday on my own. I didn’t go in the end. I got as far as the airport, but decided that it was just too loser-ish to go on my own. It seemed like a great idea when I booked it, but I just got so panicked that the check in assistant would know I was going on my own, regardless of the story I’d concocted about meeting someone when I got to Ibiza. I’m glad I didn’t go in the end as I read in the paper that the week I’d planned to have been there was the worst rate for holiday makers dying on the isle recorded on file. I might not have seen my birthday.
It’s strange to think that I’ve had such a big change in a year. I’m used to changing jobs. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever had the same job on any of my birthdays that I had the year before. Having both a girlfriend and a baby is massive, though. I’ve been thinking more and more about whether I love Alison or not. Today I decided to put that to the test and think about how I’d feel if she wasn't here. I had a dream last week about her dying whilst giving birth. The thought of that happening hasn’t left me. Today I purposefully gave more thought to the dream than I have done in the past. Before I’d just pushed it away, today it felt like I needed to give the thought some brain time. It’s like it won’t leave me unless I consider the possibilities and it’s once I had done that and felt the projected feelings that Alison dying would make me feel, that I knew, I just knew that I loved her. It’s a strange feeling and not something I’m sure I can put into words; hopefully whoever is reading this is human and not as much of a loser in love as I was before meeting Alison. What I do know is that it isn’t like a light switch that is flicked. The feeling isn’t like taking a pill and feeling the results within a few minutes. In my case, I had a niggling, I needed to run through a few scenarios in my head to see what my reaction was. It sounds silly, but it is just something that I knew I needed to do. I’ve never thought that way before. I suppose it is just a process that goes through people’s minds when they are falling, or have fallen, in love. As humans we’re logical beings and love is kinda illogical. We’re selfish and love isn’t.
I’m getting emotional thinking about it now as I have never felt this way about anyone before. We’re not going out tonight as Alison is self-conscious about the way she walks, plus she’s been feeling really tired. I think I’ll tell her tonight.
10.00 p.m.
I was sitting eating my birthday tea (ham and pineapple pizza) tonight. Alison didn’t have any as she’s been told by the midwife that she has been eating too much rubbish and that the baby is in danger of being diabetic if she carries on. Anyway, I was eating my dinner and I decided that it was time to tell her. I’d been thinking about how I was going to do it all day.
In the end I said, ‘It’s a cracking pizza, love.’ I thought she’d get the meaning in what I said, but she didn’t.
She just said. ‘The 1970s called, they want their language back,’ and laughed.
I still haven’t told her how I feel. I might not even do it until our boy arrives. Maybe I just need to pick a moment when I haven’t got pizza all round my face.
Wednesday July 18th 2012
Alison and I talked about antenatal classes tonight. I’m a modern man, so I’ll go along and show everyone that I’m willing to help. She then told me the class was tomorrow and I felt like I’d been tricked into it, but seeing as I had nothing else planned and I couldn’t think of anything fast enough, we’re going.
Things are getting real now. I can’t quite put into words how I’m feeling. I’m OK most of the day, then sometimes I’ll just get a completely overwhelming feeling of joy, closely followed by a crushing fear of how we’re ever going to manage or afford it.
Thursday July 19th 2012
The first antenatal class was tonight. I was a bit annoyed that there were two other couples waiting outside who'd got there before us, I wanted to get there first and show the nurses running it that we were the most keen to learn. I did manage to drag Alison in front of the couple just leaving the car park as we arrived, so we at least got to the door before them.
There were a few pleasantries exchanged and bumps stared at, then we all filed into the Mother and Baby Centre. It's only about three streets from my house, but I didn’t even know it was here. I’ve lived here almost ten years and thought I knew the area pretty well, but it seems that unless it’s something I’m interested in – a shop, a pub or something shiny or bright – then I don’t notice it at all. There is a massive sign above it, too, so it’s clear what it is. I’ve just not taken it in before. I’ll have to up my game in the paying attention front as I’ll have a baby to consider. I can’t go about not noticing danger in the street or things in the house that he could put in his mouth. I’m going to get a book on keeping focused on my surroundings out of the library this week.
We were five minutes early, as were the three other couples. The other seven seemed to have a more cavalier attitude to time keeping and came in dribs and drabs until half past seven. I can’t bring myself to walk in anywhere half an hour late, I’d rather not go if I’m that late, but some people have no such shame. If I had my way, latecomers would be made to wait in the car park until everyone else had finished and then told to come back another day. Sadly it’s not my world, though, and people don’t do as I say
. Maybe in the world you’re living in, this could be something you could implement. If you haven’t already, that is.
The session itself was just as bad as I thought it would be: a dreary nurse read from a book that should have been posted to us before the session, but wasn't because apparently they‘ve run out of money and can’t print them anymore. Apparently it is cheaper to gather us all in a room and read it to us like we were babies.
There wasn’t any of the sitting on the floor, breathing with the partners that you see on TV and most of the blokes just looked bored. I intentionally put on the most bored face I could in the hope that the nurse would see it and realise she was boring. She carried on regardless, mostly talking about what it’s like to be in the hospital and what you’re allowed to take in with you.
She then spent the last two hours talking about breast feeding. This was also supposed to be on a DVD that was sent to us beforehand, but – you guessed it – they’d run out, so we watched a VHS version that she had. The video had eight women on it and after each point was made, each of the eight women was interviewed and fed back the exact same answer as the seven others. The message was breast feed your baby
The Diary Of An Expectant Father (The Diary Of A Father Book 1) Page 12