Like a child, whenever somebody shouts my name I assume I’m in trouble. So, when my wife called me into the living room, I was instantly tense.
‘She’s spotted the spaghetti stain on the carpet’ I thought to myself as I trudged to the couch.
She didn’t look mad, but that could have been a smokescreen. I’ve fallen for that one before.
For me, fatherhood spelled fear.
I’d always known my partner wanted children. I locked that knowledge away in my mind, filed under ‘Distant Concerns’. The idea brought up too many issues, too many worries which I was afraid to face head-on. So away they went.
For years I was able to dodge the subject while we got our ducks in a row. The timing had to be perfect. Stable relationship, check. Good jobs, check. Own home, check. The ducks were forming an orderly line. Damn ducks.
So, I'm 40 weeks +12 days.
What's gone wrong? Why isn't baby here? Did they not get the memo?
Plans have been made round this date! I've wasted a month of maternity leave and i'm going to have no time with the baby
“Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep and doesn’t know where to find them...”
Little Bo Peep may have lost her sheep but I as sang the words I felt like I’d lost my identity and the familiar life I knew and loved.
It was Monday morning at 12noon. I was sitting, completely makeup less in the local library surrounded by babies, toddlers and their mums.