As they big day draws ever closer, I’ve been finding it harder to relax. I’ve found this particularly strange because if you asked me I’d tell you I’m not at all stressed about becoming a Dad. Quite the opposite, I’m looking forward to it. But then again, I just can’t relax.

It’s so bad, in fact, that I’ve started lying in bed, half asleep, and I get palpitations in my chest and a throbbing in my head. Then a big wave goes through my body and I wake up. I’ll lie there for a bit, then the same will happen again.

Now, is that an impending heart attack? Or am I paranoid? Am I worried about the baby? Can my body not slowly unwind and needs to do it in a big bang?

Obviously as I’m a man, I won’t go to the doctor about this; I’ll either die or get over it. In the mean time, I’ll probably just worry about it a little. This, I believe, is the start of the downward spiral where I worry about being worried which worries me further until eventually insanity ensues. And that can’t be a good way to start a relationship with my son. I’ll be honest, that worries me a little.

It’s getting to that time (21 days!) when Mrs C and I are thinking about what to put into a bag fro her when she goes to give birth. So far we’ve come up with:
Pants.

So, after the great amount of help I received from the mumsnet.com Mums before, I thought I’d try the out again. And they were, once again, just as wonderful as ever.

Just when I thought this was going to ease our bag packing worries, Skirmish made things a little more complicated (with a completely sensible suggestion!): “Pack 2 bags - one for labour, one for afterwards, or 3 if you want to be really organised – the 3rd for just baby stuff”.

She also advises: “You need to find out what the hospital supplies - ours said we needed to bring our own towels - you should get a list from your midwife”. Getting a list could save you either humping stuff to the hospital you don’t need to take or more likely forgetting to take something you really need because you ‘just thought they’d have it’.

OK, so here’s a 3 bag list made up of the Mums’ answers:

Labour Bag

• Baggy pjs – Loose clothing is the way to go after the birth. Pjs seem a popular choice but so do baggy shorts and t-shirts. Whatever she’ll feel most comfortable in really.
• Antibac wipes – Hospitals are not as dirty as say the local sewerage plant but if the media is to be believed they come a close second. So take some wipes to clean toilet seats or anything you might touch (with you bottom or other body part)
• Flannel - in case she wants her head mopped, mat wards and delivery rooms are always boiling hot.
• Camera and video camera - For obvious reasons, but probably best not to try and get a snap during the later stages of labour.
• Lip balm - All that breathing and sucking on Gas and Air can make her lips very dry.
• Water bottle - One with sports-type top (so can drink at funny angles)
• Glucose tablets - She might not be in the mood for food but it’s important to keep her strength up for all that pushing.
• Anything that she really likes as a matter of habit - for example, if she drinks herbal tea, pack a couple of teabags.
• Take her pillow from home - It’s really lovely to have something comfy and smelling of home - and my hospital had run out of pillows during one of my labours!

Ward Bag

• Disposable pants – it can get messy down there and regular pant changes are to be expected so disposable pants seem to make great sense.
• Normal pants – Of course sometimes you change your mind or just prefer normal pants so buy a big bumber pack of normal cotton pants too.
• A magazine or book – Not for the Dad, no, no. For the Mum, just in case the baby sleeps and she doesn’t want to.
• Arnica pillules - Arnica is invaluable for healing the tender tissues down below and for CS scars.
• Doula -
• A clock that doesn’t tick, a notebook and a pen - Because the midwives will ask “What time did the baby feed/poo?” etc and I did not have the capacity to remember at all.
• Some nice-smelling luxury mini toiletries - for after birth bath/shower and a really really soft sponge!!

Baby’s Bag

• Baby clothes – Seems obvious now I’ve read it but it wouldn’t have been top of my list!
• Nappies – You would expect the hospital provides this sort of thing but it seems more common for them not to give your new born nappies so buy some!

Man Bag

Yes Dads you need a bag too so pack a few things for yourself for yourself - change of clothes, toothbrush etc. Don’t forget to take some food for yourself and Mum too because you could be in with her for a long time and she probably wont want you to ‘pop to the shops’.

We’re not done yet, though. The Mums had some extra advice to make labour go a little smoother.

Mrs Badger gave us this little gem: “Whatever you take, make sure you pack he labour bag so you know where to find stuff in it…” It just wouldn’t have occurred to me to do this. It’s Mrs C’s clothes that we’re packing after all I hadn’t thought she wouldn’t be the one to get things out!

Finally, Klaw reminds us it’s not just about disposable pants: “Just don’t forget to pack the unconditional, unwaivering support! When she asks for pain relief and says she can’t do it anymore and wants a CS, what she really wants (although she’ll argue till blue in the face at that time) is the support, to be told that she’s doing brilliantly and that she IS doing it, that it’s hard but she’s a star, that you’re so proud of her. Never, not once, show any negativity or doubt”.

A big thanks again to the mumsnet.com Mums that helped out on this:

• Marina
• Bossykate
• Cupcakesgalore
• Bettythebuilder
• Blu
• Xenia
• ScoobyC
• MrsTittleMouse
• Themildmanneredjanitor
• NBuGgeration
• Pruners
• Klaw
• Ceebee74
• MunchiesMama
• Xenia
• MrsBadger
• Skirmish
• BandofMothers

If you’ve got some more suggestions then please, leave me a comment.

One of the things I find most entertaining about our NCT classes is how we all seem to stick to our gender stereotypes oh-so-closely. This week as we broke the ice by telling each other how we had prepared for the impending births all the women seemed to have done women-things (bought a lot of baby grows and read pregnancy magazines was the women’s top 2) and all the men seemed to have done men-things (bought new cars and put up nursery furniture was the men’s top 2).

It makes me chuckle to think about it now, but I felt that there was a real pressure of expectation on me (I don’t whether it’s from the the group or from me but I feel it) to say that I had done these manly things when in fact I hadn’t.

Fortunately for me, Mrs C had to say what she had done just before I did. Her preparations included “Mr C getting me pregnant”. Yes, yes, thank you I am the man…

It got me thinking though. I had always intended on putting that nursery furniture together before Junior turned 21 but should I make the effort and put it together before he’s actually born?

Fortunately the in-laws came down and made answering the question a lot easier. “I’ll help you” said the father-in-law. Bingo. He even has tools that make this sort of thing easier. That made me think a little more: if I’m going to be a *dad* do I need tools? I do have a set of allen keys and tyre levers for my bicycle, I wonder if they count.

Anyway, the long and the short of it is that the nursery furniture is now together and ready to be destroyed by the devil in a nappy and ready for next week’s NCT class for me to brag “Well I have put the nursery furniture together, don’t you know”.

Today is Fathers’ Day and as usual I haven’t got my Father anything for it. Yes, it’s miserly but I don’t generally subscribe to it as a rule. It’s just another excuse to give some money to Clinton cards, right?

So I don’t bother.

This bothers my parents somewhat. Each year I get a “You forgot father’s day” phone call. I usually reply with the “There’s a Son Day every week but what do I get from you?” sarcastic remark. Invariably they throw “Years of love and support” back into my face. Nice one.

This year, my Mother said:

“Have you remembered it’s Fathers’ Day next weekend?”

“No”

“Well, you will next year.”

I’m fairly certain that I wont remember next year, but if I do I’m sure I’ll be guilt ridden for not sending my Dad a card or gift for however many years it’s been now.

What I’m really hoping though is that Fatherhood is a reward in itself and a £1.75 card isn’t going to make it any more special. But let’s wait for next year and see if I still feel the same.

OK, OK. Blogging about blogging again, I know. I’m sorry. But just to let you know that Bernard now has his own blog, called The Adventures of Professor Bernard Armstrong and Other Miniature Schnauzer Stories. A bit of a mouth full I know, so it’s “Miniature Schnauzer Stories” for short.

This means that there’ll be no more pictures of Bernard on this blog (unless he’s being ridden by Junior or something) so to keep tabs on him, you’ll have to pop over to his blog. That’s:

The Adventures of Professor Bernard Armstrong and Other Miniature Schnauzer Stories

Just in case you’d forgotten already.

Oh gosh that came round quick. It’s Saturday again, so it must be the second NCT class.

Now, last week proved to be a hard act to follow for today’s class. In fact it was a bit like the music industry: this was the tricky second class. Mostly because I was looking forward to it slightly more than last time, I had a better idea of what to expect and I was slightly less whiny about it being on a Saturday.

This morning’s “ice breaker” involved us taking some stones from a bag, then having to say our names again (despite writing them on sticky label name badges again) and one thing that we have done to prepare for the baby for each stone we had taken. Oh what fun, children! Fortunately, not being a greedy man, I only took 3 stones and got away with telling everyone that I went to NCT classes on Saturday mornings (I did only say I was slightly less whiny) and recounting a story about being vomited on.

I shan’t bore you with what we covered this week but again it was 50/50 patronising/interesting.

I did tell a funny story about Pinards though. These are little plastic ear-trumpets that Mid-wives use to listen to a baby’s heartbeat. You press the trumpet fairly hard into the mothers stomach in the appropriate place and listen carefully. It’s all very high-tech. I told the group that I’d wanted to listen to the Junior’s heartbeat but we didn’t have a Pinard, so I’d had to use a trombone instead. When the slide was all the way in the baby’s heart beat faster and when the slide was all the way out it beat slower. It got a few chuckles, I was fairly pleased with it.

Later in the meeting another father made a jokey comment that got a few chuckles and he seemed fairly pleased with. I chuckled too (out of politeness) but thought it was a cringe-worthy remark and was a little embarrassed that he’d said it.

Suddenly I realised I was him. I was making embarrassing comments that people were politely chuckling at. Dear God, no.

It made me think whether I’m taking this whole fatherhood thing seriously enough.

Maybe I should take the classes more seriously, but I really struggle with the “Can you remember what this part of the mother’s called” parts. Or maybe I should think more about the others in the class; just because I’m happy to clown around doesn’t mean they want to. I don’t know.

Either way, I’m pretty certain the trombone gag was funny.