Hey darling. Me again.
Just wanted you to know that Mum and Dad are spending most of their hard-earned on your good self right now. We had a really good time at the Baby Show in Bristol last week, bought your crib, lots of sleepsuits, various other bits and pieces - some of which attach to your mother, which I find amusing. Our house is now full of boxes containing your essential items, and more are on the way. It's just a good job we both love assembling furniture, isn't it?
We are very close to finding out whether you are a boy or a girl, but don't mind which, of course. Just to know that you're ok is the only thing we need. Honest to God, we don't really care about anything else - not even the dog. We are off to Tim and Claire's the day after we find out, which will be a great laugh, too.
The really weird thing that's happened this week is that I went to hospital, in an ambulance, because I was stressed, basically. I felt fine, but apparently starting a new job and discovering you're pregnant almost simultaneously can be quite crap for the ol' equilibrium. The irony is that I am, internally at least, really relaxed about the idea of the challenge that you represent. I think we will be fine, and the more I think about you being in our lives, the calmer I feel. I am great with bubs. Getting you into the world is a stressful prospect, but somehow I know it'll be alright really. Silly Dad just needs to calm down and stop worrying about whether we have enough bibs, doesn't he? Silly Dad.
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