Just a few days in to the idea of fatherhood and I’m beginning to notice a pattern of tears and cuddles. Today was no different…
Holly and I spent a few moments discussing when/how we should tell our parents. At this point in time our families are in the USA. Holly’s at home in Texas. Mine are holidaying in Florida. We concluded it would be best to wait until we had the confirmation from our GP after the weekend as (i) we would have more certainty that Holly was pregnant (ii) this would give my wife’s family a chance to buy a webcam so we could see their reaction. (n.b. my wife is a smiley person hence facial expressions, smiles in particular, are important to her.)
Distracted by sport on the TV Holly takes the opportunity to call the grown-ups so I jump on the second line knowing our discussion was meaningless and learning you cannot reason with a pregnant woman. After a few hours of dialogue Holly takes a potty break and instructs me to email her dad a photo of a one of our magic sticks. You may think this a simple task until Holly (my now photo editor) decides the blue line isn’t dark enough on my choice so a half-hour photo shoot begins. Once chosen and sent the phone-call is resumed.
The news is broken and Holly is smiling. She talks to her parents about baby things. She hears of her own birth, of 19 hours in labour and misplaced epidurals. They swap grandparent names like Mema and Granny. My attention is drawn back to the game while my auditeur actif skills are put into autopilot.
a big thankyou to granparents.net for allowing me to link to their site
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