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It’s past midnight. My wife and I had just come out of a Christmas family dinner at my sister-in-law’s place, and we’ve made our way to the hospital as planned with our gynae.
I can say this much. As much planning as you can do, even right down to choosing your own kid’s birthday, nothing can prepare you for the anxiety attack that comes with realising that in a few hours’ time, you’re going to be a father.
Yet, in spite of this very common feeling, particularly for first-time fathers, the hospital will stil unceremoniously quick you in a family waiting lounge (where I am presently writing this slowly but surely with my trusty companion of the moment, my cell phone), while my wife is preparing for my son’s big debut in the labour ward. I am now no doubt feeling what my sister-in-law is feeling; a more-than-mild irritation of not being able to get in the thick of the labour process with her dear little sis, my wife.
While I was initially a little stifled with my sister-in-law’s incessant fussing about keeping her in the loop of every step, every movement and every little squeeze of my wife’s contractions (including catching everything on video), i completely understand what she’s talking about, particularly since I have suddenly been put into the exact situation she is currently in; away from her dear little sis, my wife.
I’m going to be driving home shortly to fetch some other stuff we forgot we planned to bring to the hospital, but for now, this is as much of a first update as i have for our very first step into parenthood – which, quite frankly, isn’t very much now, is it?