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The Impregnator's Diary #3
3rd Trimester – Dirty videos and fat ankles
by Craig Alan Williamson, 6th July 2008
Published on DIYfather.com, 26th October 2008
I’ve heard the word ‘vagina’ said so many times over the last few months that I no longer find it amusing. Perhaps this is the sole purpose of antenatal classes – desensitising you to rude words so that you actually feel mature enough for fatherhood. Anyway, it has certainly worked on me, as I can now even look at pictures of bare breasts without so much as a smirk. When they said having a child would completely change your life, I never imagined it would take away such simple pleasures.
Having said all that, I wasn’t quite able to withhold my laughter throughout the childbirth video we were shown. I blame it on the dodgy background music and the fact that the woman sounded more like she was conceiving a child than giving birth to one. It didn’t help that we were introduced to the video as being a ‘Dutch film from the 80s’. I know that Holland produced some fairly explicit cinematic treats from that era, but nothing had quite prepared me for that display.
So our course of antenatal classes has now completed and we feel much better prepared for what is about to come. The joys of labour have been explained in gratuitous detail, and I’ve had the opportunity to humiliate myself in public by failing to change a doll’s nappy correctly. But it’s all good stuff that we felt we needed to experience before taking on this incredible new responsibility. It has also given us the chance to meet similarly terrified couples and exchange stories of leaky nipples and vaginal discharges. It’s always nice to be reminded that you’re not the only ones going through this crazy time.
Our midwife appointments are now every 2 weeks and thankfully the baby seems to be in a good position for a natural birth – his head is well and truly down and he is getting ready to make the short but treacherous journey out into the world. In preparation for the damage he can do to my wife’s nether regions, she has been doing some pelvic floor exercises to prevent her from weeing herself for the rest of her life. We’ve also been doing some perineum massage to basically make sure that our little boy doesn’t join up Dawn’s two holes when he squeezes his head out. It’s definitely in my best interests to prevent this from happening, as it’s apparently pretty difficult to qualify for free hookers on the NHS.
These are just some of the fine details that you only discover after you’re expecting your child. Just like the fact that most mothers poo themselves during labour. I know, I know, it’s a horrible thing to imagine. “Darling, I can see the head, I CAN SEE THE HEAD! This is the most amazing moment of my...oh, wait...it’s...eugh...it’s a turtle head.” No wonder babies are so keen to wee and poo on their parents after being exposed to that kind of display on their birthday.
This third trimester has been particularly harsh on Dawn whose belly has been growing much more rapidly than before, making simple exercise ever more difficult. Even just turning over in bed causes her to moan and groan like an auditioning porn star. But she is dealing with her condition remarkably well and still managing to take long walks and generally be as mobile as possible.
What has surprised me, however, is how a pregnant woman can still be so concerned about ‘looking fat’. Pregnancy causes you to get lots of heartburn, yet Dawn is embarrassed about taking a few Rennie tablets because “only fat people get heartburn.” Her ankles are getting swollen which is another very typical sign of pregnancy, yet she still worries that “only fat people get swollen ankles.” Even when we were at the midwife’s last week Dawn was desperately trying to explain away her high blood pressure because “only fat people get high blood pressure.” YOU’RE PREGNANT, WOMAN – DEAL WITH IT! Of course I can’t actually say that to her face because fat people can be a little sensitive.
In terms of other preparations we’ve been busy finishing off our baby names books (still without any decision), and buying the final few items of baby-related paraphernalia. Now it seems that the only thing left to do is to wait. Of course the problem with all this waiting is that it gives you time to think about what’s going to be happening fairly soon. Dawn is going to be in sheer agony, possibly for 24 hours straight. I’m going to be shouted at, possibly for 24 hours straight. We’ll soon be sleep deprived, we’ll soon be changing some pretty horrific nappies, and our daily lives are going to change completely. We can’t wait!
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