My pretzel turned out to be a baby
Tonight Matthew, I’m going to be an expectant father…
The moment I was told I was going to become a father is unforgettable. That’s stating the obvious perhaps, but I feel I need to reiterate that point lest I get the stare from my other half.
It was Friday 14th October, and I’d spent the evening at home watching sleeping through a film.
Meanwhile, J had been out with her girls celebrating an engagement. So when she texted to say she was coming over, I assumed she had one too many and would need someone to hold her hair back in the morning.
I wasn’t entirely wrong – although any feeling of nausea wouldn’t have been alcohol-related, since she hadn’t been drinking…
“The tests (all four of them) came back positive!”
Turns out, J was particularly eager to see me as a result of discovering that very evening she was pregnant – two to three weeks gone actually.
That’s if you believe what pregnancy sticks tell you (which you should not, by the way, not completely – but I’ll come to that another time).
Having experienced pregnancy symptoms but dismissed them for a good week, J was frog-marched by the savvy bride-to-be from the bar they’d just met in and over to Boots.
A handful of pregnancy tests were bought – shout out on the three-for-two deal – and back into the bar they went, where the tests (all four of them) came back positive!
“I thought I was seconds away from guzzling a warm cinnamon pretzel.”
When she arrived at mine, I was ushered upstairs and told she had a surprise for me. I followed her instructions and sat on the bed waiting obediently, eyes closed and hands outstretched.
To be entirely honest, having heard rustling from her bag, very aware J knows how much I love eating, I thought I was seconds away from guzzling a warm cinnamon pretzel – you know the ones I mean, and if you don’t, you’re missing out.
Imagine my surprise then, to have felt a few plastic objects click together in my hands.
I’ve seen enough films to know what a pregnancy test looks like, but nothing can prepare you for that moment of handling them yourself.
The blankness that clears your mind of all thought like the strongest of meditations, while you lose the power of speech.
Then experiencing a rush of thoughts piling together like a collection of commuters filling a train at rush hour on a Monday morning – a scenario I’m all too familiar with.
Then, suddenly, overwhelmingly, tuning in on that one clear realisation – I’m going to be a dad! We’re having a baby! I threw my arms around J as the mesh of thoughts tuned in and out of focus.
To add a splash of more colour to that magical moment, I had the news broken to me while wearing a Superman onesie.
DADult Life, here I come.