Wow

Well, that was a surprise! Went along to our 16 week Midwife check-up today (the community midwife is much friendlier than the hospital based ones we have encountered so far) and we were just expecting to have bloods taken for testing.

They test for all manner of things such as whether there's a risk of Downs Syndrome for one example. We have decided to have all the tests done - forewarned is forearmed and in any case it's good for peace of mind.

Anyway, up jumped my wife onto the bed and all of a sudden some gel was applied to her tummy and a remarkably clever little microphone was brought forth. The midwife said that we might not be able to hear Baby's heartbeat, but at 16 weeks she was going to have a search for it.

Now, my wife had thought she had felt baby flutters a few days prior to the appointment but had felt nothing since, so we listened with a wee bit of trepidation. All of a sudden came a strong little phut-phut..phut-phut...phut phut...

... it was truly awesome to hear it and such a total surprise. It seems the little nipper(ess) is fairly active too, because the heartbeat came and went as (s)he moved about - who knows, maybe swinging from their umbilical cord like a mini-Tarzan!!

It was another fantastic milestone reached, and a huge reminder of how precious a gift a child is, and what a huge responsibility awaits me. No, not awaits me, I have that responsibility now, in so many areas.

I have to make sure I reduce stress for my clever, beautiful wife. Her body is having demands placed upon it that she has never known before, so the slack has to be picked up by me, and not added to.

I have to be completely ready to welcome this little one into what is a big, scary world, full of nasty surprises and twists and turns. I have to be ready to guide them by their little hand through the pitfalls, and keep them safe and secure.

I have to ask myself, from now forwards and regarding everything I do, "Is what I am about to do in the best interests of my wife, my child and me?" If it doesn't fit all three categories, it won't be done.

In 3 weeks time we are due our 20 week scan, at which time Baby will be about 6 1/2 inches long, steadily gaining weight, wth a fully operational circulatory system, hair, a nervous system, reflexes... 140 days ago (s)he was a wee cluster of cells, invisible to the naked eye and unrecognisable as (s)he is now. That'll mark half way. It's an amazing journey.



(Picture courtesy of www.babycentre.co.uk)

New additions

There has been a new addition to my extended family recently...

My brother has taken on the little fellow above, and as yet can't think of a name.

There have been many suggestions, Alfie, Harley, Rio, Rockie, and many others - apparently, none seem to fit (although I do like Alfie).

Any suggestions - feel free to suggest away.

Our latest photo of our wee one is not so colourful...

... yet it is equally, if not more exciting :) Have a good weekend - I'm not working it, so Christmas shopping on the card? We'll see...

Words from a Mum To Be

COP SHOP CUT & SHUT




Latest government policy is to adopt the
‘cut and shut’ method. This differs from the mechanical sense and does not involve vehicles. The policy involves cutting staff numbers and reducing operational stations to enable current officers to gain better experience by having to do everything!

Many important issues

That's me back to work after a few days off and a visit from the parents. They've been excited since we told them our good news about 10 weeks ago, so it was nice for them to be able finally to get up here and for us to be able to show them the scan pictures and the nursery.

Work itself was - well, it's like I've never been away, frankly. I got finished virtually on time, came home and was about to settle down to a new episode of Secret Millionaire, when I found that C4 are apparently pulling a similar stunt to GR's Kitchen Nightmares and giving us "another chance to see" something they already broadcast not that long ago.

It got me thinking about licence fees, and their real worth. Should we have to pay the licence fee if we already pay Sky to receive the same broadcasts?

Then the news came on and a more important thought crossed my mind. Seeing as England totally messed up against Croatia tonight, it occurred to me that young Bubs, whether male or female, could inherit some of his dad's fast twitch fibres, ball control and competitve edge. (Mum-to be is laughing at me just now - not with me, AT me). If that happens, will Bubs, being Scottish by birth but with an English dad, want to represent England or Scotland?

I don't agree necessarily with place of birth etc, as Jesus born in barn maketh Him not a Donkey, nor even a farmer. She-Who-Cooks-Fantastically reckons Scotland. It's a debate for the future.

One for the very near future though is Sir Ian Blair - the MPA are apparently considering a vote of No Confidence in him, so says the Daily Mail today. Any takers for Democratically Elected, accountable Chief Constables?

Who can hear you?

Chris Langham was released from prison recently, having completed a fraction of his sentence for downloading child-pornography.

He has been beamed into my living room today thanks to Sky News and an interview in which he claims he downloaded this abhorrent material in a caring and compassionate way, and wondered if he'd come across images of his own abuse he claims to have suffered as a child.

This narcisistic, self-indulgent excusing of something that every right minded person knows is beneath contempt, is itself contemptuous.

Being about to bring a new life into this world (via Mrs Dad-To-Be), this is something I feel even stronger about than before (and it was already a well-honed disgust), and I don't know now though, who is worse.

Langham, for doing it in the first place, or Sky, and the rest of the media, for giving his whining excuses a soapbox and microphone that the victims rarely receive. I was going to link to his interview when I started writing this post, but during the course of the last 15 minutes I have decided that by doing that I am simply amplifying his voice a little louder.

There are dangerous, manipulative, devious and downright evil people amongst us, people who view children not as our future, but as their own warped present. We must do everything we can to not validate their excuses, not to give them a stage bigger and better than the victims, and we must always do right by the children. They are the future.

A Kitchen Nightmare

Both myself and Mrs Dad-To-Be are culinary fans. Not in an over-the-top, over-zealous, poncey kind of way, but in an enthusiastic, semi-able way.

Well, I am. I have followed a recipe for an authentic Tiramisu (and made way too much, but that's another story), I have done a mean fillet steak and oven roasted balsamic shallots, and my mash is smashing in the proper meaning of the word.

Mrs Dad-To-Be is a cracking chef de cuisine, who can turn her hand to anything whatsoever. She has shown my dad what proper gravy tastes like (much to the irritation of my mum), she creates the most luxurious tiffin (sadly it's incredibly bad for you), her lasagne is superb (if somewhat disproportionate to the number of people she's looking to dish up to) and she has even cooked broccolli that my dad liked (again, to my mirth and my mum's dismay).

So it's no surprise that we both sit down on a Tuesday night to watch Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. It was billed as a new series, where he revisited restaurants he has previously help in the preceeding series. Except it's not. It's 55 minutes of the preceeding show and a 5 minute return-to-the-scene-of-the-crime a year or so later to see how they're doing.

Its bloody annoying, having to watch the same show you've already seen (more than once in fact, seeing as they've been repeated on a plethora of satellite channels over the last year), all for the last 5 minutes. It's like having to buy a DVD just to see the alternative ending of a film you've already seen - I mean you wouldn't, would you?

So tonight, we've seen the Spanish episode again, with the Donkey kebab and the poo on the terrace.

On a related note, we are planning to make our own baby food, to a greater or lesser degree. It's a bit like The Good Life, only we don't have a veggie patch. Anyone got any recipes?

More Pooh, and Tigger too

Today was a great day in the becoming dad-ified and ready for the arrival of our little one in May.

This is because I received a gift; not just any gift, but a splendiferous gift. A boxed set of the tales of Winnie the Pooh.

This would be a fantastic present if I already knew the stories, but having (somehow) missed out on these tales during my own childhood, I now have the extreme pleasure of having to familiarise myself with them before being able to regale them with delight to Bubs. I can safely say, this will not be a chore.

So this won't be a long post, as Pooh is hunting a Woozle, Piglet is being scared and Christopher Robin is busy laughing at them... I'll let you know when I get to Tigger.

Domestics

I just read an interesting post on Bounty, about mums, dads, fallings-out and the Police.

Now, from what I can decipher, she hits him a fair bit, he just wants to have contact with his little'un so he doesn't retalliate. One time, he pushes her away, she falls, calls the Police and he gets arrested. Doesn't seem fair really, and it probably isn't.

The poster of this thread goes on to say that the Police have side with her and the law doesn't care about dads sometimes.

I can see this from a slightly different perspective, doing the job I do.

Whenever there is corroborative evidence in allegations of domestic assault (i.e. the allegation and maybe a bruise or a scratch, or more), the Police (certainly up here in Scotland, and it'll nae be that much different in England and Wales) are duty bound to follow the Lord Advocate's guidelines, which generally means that the accused (as they quickly become) will appear at court on the next lawful day. That's bad enough, but if this occurs on Friday teatime, it means that they're in the cells from then until Monday.

Either way the allegation has to be investigated, which means that someone's getting arrested on suspicion (or detained as we call it) until the matter's resolved.

Very often I have been to incidents where a couple have fallen out and one of them in a fit of pique calls the Police, to get the other one out of their hair for a few hours. They tell us when we get there that they don't want to press charges, they just want some space for a while.

They don't seem to realise the chain of events that they set in motion, and they don't take kindly to us following our procedures.

I know a lot of cops who detest being sent to domestics for precisely this reason. There have been circumstances in the past where domestic assaults have become murders, so we always take them seriously. But spurious complaints made by males and females (we don't side with men or women, we respond to the individual circumstances) do a great injustice to the genuinely fearful and abused, who often are so scared they are the ones least likely to have the genuine bottle to call us.

Point of this post. Well, it's to say that we, as the Police, don't have a thing against the dads. Nor do we have a thing against the mums. We certainly want the best for any victims and all children involved. But we don't want to have to deal with spurious, false, exaggerated complaints borne out of spite. Because whilst we're dealing with those, a real victim could be suffering.

A load of Pooh

Well that's another week past, and we're now 14 weeks, heading towards 15. After my chastening experience at the maternity hospital last week, I can happily report I haven't encountered any fiery fearsome midwives this week, and my self-confidence is now recovered to the extent that I can get up from the sofa without furtively looking around to see if I'll get away with it. Woof!

It's been a busy old time though, and we now have (the vast majority of) the nursery done.

It must have been back in April-time that myself and my lady went to Makro for a nosey about. This was at a time when babies were not really at the forefront of our minds, although we saw a beautiful 3-piece set of nursery furniture. A five foot high wardrobe, a dresser with baby changer and a cot. All in an easy-to-assemble-slot-together-no-nails-no-hinges-no-hammers-and-no-swearing format. We admired, we cooed, we said "not in a million years at over £200 for each item!" and then we forgot about them really. We didn't need baby furniture after all, and it was out of our price range.

Fast forward 7 months, and our spare bedroom, which we had hardly touched since moving in 5 years ago, was all of a sudden most definitely needed. A lick of paint, a new dado rail, the old carpet up (and God, our dog really had gone to town on bits of it, so that was way past time anyway), and new carpet down (which is nicer than the newish one we got for our own room!)

The old chest of drawers was absolutely wrecked (apparently I shove things in to the point of daftness which killed the structure of the thing), and the wardrobe was a rickety relic from the bloke we bought the house from. They were both dismantled and taken down to the local skip, leaving us with the need to replace them. No rush we thought, back in September...

Fast forward to the end of last week and we realised that my folks are due up in (as it was then) a week. We have no carpet and no bedroom furniture, although the bed's pretty comfy! We got ourselves an inexpensive carpet ordered and fitted, leaving ourselves with just the furniture to find. We figured one of those cheap canvas wardrobes would be ok, and maybe a chest of drawers that is similar, so we headed back to Makro. Personally I didn't think it would have been worth going there, but it's close, and it meant a walk around other cool stuff.

I hadn't realised that pregnancy had given my wife such perception. She headed completely the opposite way to the normal way we would normally have gone, leaving me in her wake, to a pallet where the Pooh furniture was still standing, with a big A-Frame sale poster above it. And a reduction. A huge reduction. A massive reduction. £60 for each of the three bits of furniture. £180 all in, less than a third of the original price! Wahay!! We'll have those please!! And even better remember, it's an easy-to-assemble-slot-together-no-nails-no-hinges-no-hammers-and-no-swearing format.

So we (somehow) squished the 6 boxes into the back of a small Honda Civic and drove them home to get them set up - and I did the dresser and the wardrobe in less than 10 minutes!! Oh my, how this baby thing is going to be a cinch! We didn't do the cot as my dad won't fit into it and the sides would be a bit high for him to clamber out of even if he did, so that'll wait until they've been and gone.

But here's the best bit, well, the two best bits. Firstly, we compromise on a number of things for the house, but this was our first choice of furniture so it was great to get it.

Secondly, these sets are on sale on the Internet, through respectable retailers at over £700 the set!!!!

So what was the point really of this blog. I guess it's to gloat that we got a bargain. Usually it's our friends who land on their feet and we are left in the starting blocks. Not this time!!

And so, I have a week off work now to admire our handiwork in the nursery (as we can genuinely call it now, resplendent in Pooh transfers) and to count down the days to week 15.

And so, it's goodnight from Pooh, Tigger, Eeyore, Piglet, Kanga, Roo and me. Night night.

Science of bringing up baby

Recently we have been watching 'Bringing Up Baby', a show on Channel 4 where three different methods of bringing up and coping with new-borns have been put to the test and compared.



The first is based on the 1950s 'Routine Method', the second on Dr Spock, the 60s guru, and the third is the Continuum Theory (this one sounds a bit like a sci-fi film, maybe one of those Star Trek films featuring Spock).

Seeing as the Routine Method is the only one not to evoke thoughts of Spock, Klingons and Phasers (always set to stun, weren't they!?), this one appeals most.

Flippancy apart, the routine method seems to be about setting down an early routine for baby, so after a short while they get to expect to feed, to sleep etc at certain times. It requires a wee bit of firmness, but it's ideal for helping baby fit into the family and to allow mum to quicker regain a routine of her own.

It initially caused some controversy on the C4 programme for seeming to be harsh, but at the end of the 3 month period, the babies on this particular routine seemed the most contented and well adjusted, and the parents seemed to least harrassed.

I guess it's early days for me to be spouting about how we react and cope with baby when (s)he arrives but I think routine seems best. I'll read this again in 7 months and see how accurate I was(n't)!

A dog's life

I now know what my dog feels like.

Not in so far as I can suddenly lick my own "bits", nor have I sprouted a tail, started sniffing my own poo, or weeing outside. And I haven't got fleas either (though the thought of it has suddenly made my scalp itch!)

Off we went for the scan today, and every time my darling wife was called through for this, that or the other appointment, or to take her wee somewhere (Doctors are fascinated by the wee of pregnant ladies), I stood up too, to be told, "Not you" and so I would slink back round into my seat, slowly exhale and probably look pitiful. Just like when I tell my own dog, "Bed!"

They say you should walk a mile in another man's shoes before judging him - I think you should walk a mile on another dog's paws, and spend an hour being sent to bed before you cast judgement.

But anyway, everything seemed to go well, even though the hospital were wise to us and told us we wouldn't be getting another scan today - Boo, that was the bit I was looking forward to.

In other news, I can't believe I declined to watch Liverpool play last night, and they stuck 8 past Besiktas - typical!

Maybe if I took my own wee along I'd get invited to more things...?

Forums - read all about it

I'm no stranger to forums. Before we became pregnant I was regularly irritating my better half by coming in from my work (I am a cop) and reading through a couple of Police forums.

They're like a topical newsletter, written and maintained by people who understand my world, and full of useful snippets of information, hints, tips, etc. There are also sections for prospective officers, and chart all aspects of the recruitment process.

It's no surprise then that when we discovered our little one was on the way, we sought out a similar type forum for pregnancy. For the most part, the forums we discovered are largely inhabited by mums and mums to be, but they all seem to have a Dads Only Zone, where prospective dads can chill out, away from the maelstrom of raging feminine hormones.

It appears though that my fondness for forums, where like minded individuals can relax, chat etc, is reserved for a different type to pregnancy though. Since signing up I have seen something quite worrying, which appears to be a reliance on the forum for everything pregnancy related, and a penchant for only acknowledging tragedy.

It's hit close to home too. With our scare last week we logged on looking for some reassurance about bleeding. What we found were scare stories about foetuses (foeti?) ceasing to develop at every stage, worries being posted in answer to other worries, and almost an online version of chinese whispers. Nowhere to be found was a calm, reassuring voice, and nowhere was there a common-sensical "Get thee to the bloody Midwife!"

When we posted our good news we didn't get many replies, which was sad. It seemed that the stressed out, fraught posts attracted all the attention. Maybe it's because we all thrive a wee bit on drama, especially when we perceive that we can add some sage comment, or show we've had worse ourselves.

The dads' zone seems to be populated in the majority by women whose own other halves are against the pregnancy, totally uninterested and ambivalent, not showing any paternal desires and generally being meanie-bots (It's definitely NOT good to be a meanie-bot - ask my wife). They appear to be asking the sane, pleasant enthusiatic dads-to-be for their advice, although if you take as gospel the amount of disaffected women out there, you'd be hard pushed to find a decent bloke, especially seeming as all these posts are answered by other women!

I did consider starting my own forum and running it, but we've got 6 months to go, and then franky I'll be way too deep in nappies, rusks (can't wait, I loved them as a kid and now I get them again!), Johnsons lotion and baby sick to even give it a second thought.

So, I am going to ask the midwife if anything concerns us, keep good news for friends and here, and read with interest but a healthy dose of cynicism the forums.

Any thought on whether Sir Ian should stay or go?

Scan 2

Well, tomorrow is the date of our first scheduled scan - the one that would have given us our first view of the wee one, had we not had the scare last week.

We're still going tomorrow, as we've been advised to keep the appointment, and there's a chance that we'll still get the scan. The quality should be a bit better than these

But that's not to do down their significance!!!

I'll post again after the appointment tomorrow morning -here's hoping all's still tickety-boo!

Concept to reality

The first few weeks of pregnancy are quite weird for a bloke. I have come to this conclusion by experiencing it first hand.

For the uninitiated, it goes something like this.

Darling wife comes out of bathroom and hands me a plastic thing, a bit like a toothbrush handle. She says "Honey, I'm not going to be drinking for a while...", I finally twig, see two lines and get the whole We're Going To Have A Baby thing. It's a dizzying, confusing, exciting time.

Depending on when you want to tell people this life-changing news, you..erm, well, tell them. Everyone shakes your hand, says "well done", "enjoy the last few months of freedom", and so on.

But nobody tells you this:-

Then for the bloke... well, nothing changes. All the changes from that point onwards are in the woman. She gets sick, she craves weird foods (luckily my better half craved cheeseburgers and so I could happily go along with that) but me - I don't.

I reckon blokes get used to the "We're having a baby in a few months" thought process, asnd there it stays. Despite all the baby forums and web sites that show various stages of baby development, it doesn't really hit home. Especially when, as I have posted previously, no medical professional seems willing to confirm the pregnancy for about 3 months.

It's then that accusations can fly in from our darling wives that we're losing interest in the whole thing. we're not, but nothing seems to be happening after the initial rush of madness.

Until the scan. Notwithstanding the trauma (OK, melodramatic word after the event - see previous post - but it was at the time) of our first scan, this is the time that husbands/partners/significant others can finally see what's been causing all the fuss, to-do, sickness and cheesburger-feasting.

The ultrasound scan, once you've established that everything seems ok, there is a heartbeat, the genetic blueprint seems to have worked thus far, is a really emotional moment. I welled up anyway, but when the wee one kicked (then went back to sleep!) I just wanted to burst!

It's at that point that it all becomes real, and pregnancy isn't just a concept - especially for men.

So, if there are any slightly panicky women out there who think that their other half has lost interest, and you haven't had a scan yet -well, if they're anything like me, the scan will just prove that they blooming well haven't lost any interest - they just need more than a concept!

24 hours later

Phew!!! Scan this morning showed little Bubs, a strong heart beat and 12 weeks 3 days old!!

Talk about a strung out last 24 hours!

Got some cool photos, saw the heart beating, saw a wee little kick - then (s)he went back to sleep - just like Dad!!

I feel knackered now, absolutely worn out to the bone, but it was worth it to see that everything as it should be. The midwife and sonographer seemed a bit stand-offish at first, but that's probably not surprising given the circumstances of us being there. They didn't really know whether they were going to be giving us good or bad news - can't be an easy position for them to be in. Anyway, they soon thawed when they saw the wee heartbeat and could point it out.