Our Birth Story

“Oh my God!”

“House stinks like shit!”

“Switched from Tens to Gas & Air”

These are just some of the brief notes I managed to make during the main event. I’d starting keeping track quite well, but than as the whole thing dragged out, there are definitely some gaps that I need to try and remember. But, remember I shall, I’m sure. So if you’re so inclined and you have a spare 10 minutes, here’s our story of how two became three. Well, not the whole story. I’m not starting from the beginning, you’ll have to just use your imagination for that.

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Decorating the Nursery

One of the many jobs on our pre-baby to do list, was to decorate the baby’s room. I had thought that this was indeed one of the jobs we absolutely had to get finished before “us two” became “us three”. Since then, I’ve learned that the baby will not actually sleep in its own bedroom for several months. Maybe as many as six! Six months! That’s like, quite a lot of months if you ask me. It turns out that there’s actually more chance of me sleeping in the baby’s room than the actual baby itself during those first few months. I mean, as long as I can get a TV in there, I might be alright.

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Pain Relief in Labour

You may have noticed that I am not a woman. I’ve never given birth to a baby, and I will never know if childbirth actually hurts as much as a kick in the bollocks. Although I have an idea.

Yet despite all of this, I am aware of the taboo surrounding the choice of pain relief available to those ladies trying to squeeze something the size of a watermelon through something the size of a f*****g kiwi! Bravo ladies, bravo.

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Let’s Talk About NCT

I’d heard about NCT, but never really knew what it was. I just kind of imagined a room full of pregnant women all lying on the floor, leaning on their partners, making all kinds of crazy sounds while they practiced breathing techniques.

It turns out there’s a lot more to it than that. Although I should mention that there was this one time (at band camp) in one session where all the women were lying on the floor, leaning over a chair or sitting on a ball, being cuddled, stroked, massaged and spooned by their partner. But that was as weird as it ever got. I promise.

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The Joy’s of Hereditary Hair Loss

I remember when I was a young lad, I used to make fun at my Dads hair loss. It felt like everyone made fun of bald people back then. No, not bold people, bald people. You know. Those fellas with the sunroof on top. Those follicaly challenged folk.

Back then, having a fully shaved meant you were a bit of a thug. That was the association with it. Many a Grandma crossed the road when approached by a youth with a shaved head. Maybe that’s why for years men would cling onto that nasty bit of hair around the side and to the back. As that centre parting grew bigger and wider, still those tufty bits remained. Even Prince William for far too long clung on to what he had left until he welcomed the wonders of a set of clippers into his life. I don’t imagine he’s one for DIY grooming though. He probably has someone for that. And to clean up the mess afterwards!

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