The Nanny State

Let's be clear, my wife and I are committed believers in breastfeeding - she is breastfeeding our son as we speak.

However, after 48 hours of our son being born at 6lb 6.5oz it was clear he was not getting all the food, and especially liquids, he needed to thrive via the breast only. Having given a fair amount of the vital colostrom, my wife was simply not producing enough milk for the baby and he was not finding feeding easy. At that point my wife made the decision to supplement his feeding with SMA formula and we have done so ever since in conjunction with both breastfeeding and expressing. Three weeks after he was born, my wife is still not producing enough milk for him and we supplement with a bottle.

Today, the Health Visitor declared that he was 8lb 5oz and has put on over 1lb in a week. He is thriving and well fed.

If we had followed the NHS and Government dogma of 'breast alone is best' then our little boy would not be thriving today. A very good friend of ours had six weeks of bullying, haranguing and general put downs by various mid wives who told her that she was a failure because she was not feeding her boy enough. After six weeks of hell and a 'Failure to Thrive' notice on the her son by the Health Visitor, she decided to supplement with formula. He is a fine bouncy boy today and thrived the moment she made that decision.

Our sister-in-law had twins and her milk took six weeks to 'come in' before she could feed adequately on the breast. Thankfully, like my wife, she followed her maternal instinct and used the bottle to supplement - her twins are wonderful specimens today.

I'm not saying that that 'breast is best' is wrong, but the clear over-riding concern is to ensure the health of the baby and that's the mother's responsibility and objective over anyone else's. Who are the Government or the NHS to bully people into believing otherwise?

To stir this debate up, I called at Boots today to buy some SMA in cartons for supplements. Naturally, we have clocked up a great many points on our loyalty card and so I tried to redeem some to buy the products only to be told that was not possible. The Government had decreed that no loyalty points could be accrued on the purchase of formula of any type or points be redeemed to buy any. Such is the rabid dogma of the Government and the total Nanny State attitude that their intelligence and instincts are better than any mothers'.

Delay in milk production or lack of is a common phenomenon, you have only to ask people you know to understand this. If mothers are being bullied into believing they are failures by not producing enough or forcing the feeding of their child when there is simply not enough milk there to feed them, then I think the Government are lining themselves up to potentially cause harm, or worse, to young babies.

It's not about the discount points, it's about life and the health of babies and the mother's instinct to protect. In an ideal world, breast is the only way. But if there is not sufficient milk for the baby to thrive, mothers must make their own decisions to ensure the health of their babies and ditch dictats by the Nanny State for the sake of their babies.

First Night Away

It’s back to work and it all started with a trip to Paris with an overnight stay.

On the one hand, with junior’s sleep patterns meaning little opportunity to rest at night, a stay in a quiet hotel and a comfy bed seemed a great idea. On the other, I have missed my wife and little one a great deal. It has meant that I have had a relatively poor night’s sleep in which I had a lot of quite vivid dreams along with unrefreshing sleep. In reality, I would have far preferred to be at home.

We are still none the wiser on what is causing this nocturnal behaviour of his. It seems on the face of it a problem with wind, particularly in the lower digestive system and bowels as we don’t have too much problem getting raucous burps from the tummy. The baby is pooing like a good ‘un so it does not seem to be constipation and the books only really illustrate the problem of colic which, to our minds, is a much more intense condition – we are not at 3 hours of inconsolable screaming yet but we do get short bursts and very disturbed patterns of sleep so we are on the way.

We have changed the feeding bottles on top up milk. We have thought about whether the SMA formula is causing a reaction – we know he is getting far more of it than he should as my wife has had a lot of problems in her own milk production. The baby still sleeps reasonably well during the day but neither of us have mastered this concept of just sleeping whenever we can we both think we should be doing something in the daytime. Certainly, I have never been one to be able to sleep anywhere but in bed and at night, at that. My wife has borne the brunt of it in the last few days as she has designated that my going back to work is so important that I should have some good sleep in order not to turn up like a zombie. That means I feel really guilty that I am not pulling my weight in all this parenting and probably caused my own poor night’s sleep last night. So it means that both of us are suffering, though she far more than I.

I am back home tonight and I will be putting in a full nightshift as I am working at home for the rest of the week and so I can afford to get up a little later than normal for work and still be at my desk and phone for 8.30am. I shall also be looking at helping my wife get some sleep during the day by taking junior with me downstairs and having him by me while I work. That may not be entirely practical as when I make business calls, having even a moaning baby in the background let alone a crying one does not portray the ideal professional image. This all needs to be worked carefully otherwise my wife will simply be getting up during the day as well as I am locked on the phone.

We have no doubt that this will all even itself out and a decent pattern of sleep will emerge as junior’s digestive system matures. My sister happily told us that it was a mere 7.5 weeks before her boy slept a full night – that extra 4.5 weeks seems a real mountain to climb right now.
But this is but a minor problem in the face of the joy that this little one has brought us. He is universally loved and he cuddles each of us so lovingly each time we pick him up that you just don’t want a miss a second of his life. I read a poem circulating from a young girl dying of cancer yesterday which was about slowing down so that we do not miss a second of life because it is only when you are in her situation that you realise that time is the precious commodity when you know you have little of it left.

But as a maxim, I think it’s a good one for us all to adopt in this world that runs at a million miles an hour.

Sweet Dreams?

Sleep, as we have known it for the last 15 years of our lives as a married couple, has been abandoned. We are now on the new Scott Edward regime.

For the last two weeks, we have been regimenting ourselves to getting up every couple of hours to feed him. At first both of us saw the night through in the same way, sharing duties. Then we came up with the idea of the 'Night Shift' and one of us would stay on duty the whole night while the other got a night's sleep. We sort of do half and half now with one doing one half of the night, the other taking over the baton halfway through and seeing out the rest of the night. This seemed to be going well, with the 'on duty' parent snatching bites of sleep between feeds and winding. This sort of routine was working and we have not felt too exhausted for the last week of it.

Then something changed. Well amongst all the change a 50 year old bloke confronted with a new born son, this was just another 'curve ball' in reality. The whole process of bringing a baby into the world at my age is all about change in every department. But this one caught us unawares. I realise that even that is a dumb statement - as a new parent at 50, everything has caught me unawares.

Okay, let's get this into perspective - just when we thought we had got the whole sleep -feed - wind - sleep cycle off pat during the nights, another twist occurred to set us off balance. Firstly, he seems fairly nocturnal in that he feeds and sleeps soundly most of the day in regular patterns and his sleep is usually deep and undisturbed. At night, he has always been less regular in feeding intervals and he takes a while to wind and then get back to sleep. In the last few days these irregular feeding patterns have now got an extended period of winding which now includes some real distressful crying which starts almost as soon as you put him back down to sleep in his basket. It means that the cycle is now longer punctuated by periods of sleep in which the 'watcher' can rest but the whole cycle does not have defined start and end points - it's pretty much feed - wind - cry - feed. This means that the watching parent really gets little or no sleep at all, and none of any quality.

Splitting it during the night has helped a little and so at least each gets a few hours in a room without interruption but it does mean that we sleep separately. The first thing we did was to take the advice of a friend and his wife who have been so generous in a 'materials' way but also in imparting their knowledge. They had similar problems with one of their daughters and they found that the feeding bottles they used introduced too much air into the feed causing wind to the extent that the child got 'colic'. By changing the bottles to Dr. Brown's anti-colic special bottles, the problem was quickly alleviated.

First up, we use Tommee Tippee bottles and the steriliser unit which we had found great to date. So we switched yesterday to Dr. Brown and they don't naturally fit in the steriliser to start with but they have a special air reservoir system which makes feeding a lot easier, faster and definitely introduces less air - manifested in very little milk having to be cleaned away from the mouth and neck. Burping is very much easier and that is very noticeable. But we still haven't got rid of the main problem which seems to be trapped wind in junior's fledgling digestive system. This seems to be what is causing the problem.

So we have looked up colic and doctors generally diagnose this based on the 'threes'. i.e. it starts at around three weeks old, they cry inconsolably and loudly for three hour stretches and it happens around three times a week. Colic is likely to occur anything up to three months after being born and seems to be spasmodic pains in the abdomen causing very disturbed sleep. For the parent, it can be excruciating as normal methods of consoling and soothing seem not to work and the screaming can get to a high pitch. After a three hour stretch, many parents at least regret having the child and some consider the possibilities of violence. These are natural responses, allegedly, although if anyone contemplates actual violence they should seek help immediately.

However, the symptoms are much more pronounced than Scott has. Usually colic comes with inconsolable prolonged periods of high pitched crying, bunching of fists, scrunching of knees, red face and they wake from short sleeps with a start and much crying. But it is fair to say, he is beginning to show signs of this. First thing that is encouraging is that it is quite normal, according to Miriam Stoppard in her book on the A-Z of Common Complaints. The second is that she asserts that there is nothing physically wrong with the baby and the parents are generally doing nothing wrong - it's just the way it is in about 20% of babies.

There are various methods prescribed to help - lots of cuddling is one and this argues soundly against the regimented routine that the likes of Gina Ford put forward. Research has shown that responding to a baby's cry with cuddles and holding is not connected to any future dependency on such response - if anything, it promotes a much closer relationship with parents in later life. Rhythmical rocking or walking, swaying is often helpful, firm holds which have contact with the abdomen are also recommended which help the passage of wind. Stoppard promotes much swaddling in sheets and blankets and then put them down (this has worked a it for us in very short bursts) helps. Stoppard recommends a dummy though another book we have argues strongly against dummies as they become a rod for your own back for the future. Finally, various ways of laying the baby on their tummy or your shoulder helps produce a small pressure on the lower regions and a warm bath is also helpful.

It seems that in our case it is trapped wind in the new digestive system. He will cry out very loudly, contort, stretch, bunch up and eventually out will pop some wind from the rear exit. This almost spectacularly covered me in a jet of poo yesterday which thankfully fell short of me as I reached for a pampers wet wipe.

As I write, there seems no sign of all this now that the sun is up, he has a full tummy and he is relaxing in his vibrating chair - he is sleeping the sleep of a very contented baby. As soon as I stop typing, I shall stretch out on the couch and catch up a few z'ds I missed out on last night.

Ah, no I won't - the dogs are ready for a long walk. Parenting and dog owning mean that you have a very full day indeed.

On a final note, tomorrow I go back to work. Two days in Paris and then back home will leave my wife alone with junior for a night for the first time and this contract will probably mean plenty of those. We feel we have not quite got the whole regime sorted and this new cycle is a threat to our sanity unless we can break the cycle. The next few days may be very long ones.

So I ask myself again - do I feel this more because I am 50? If I were 20 or 30 would I be finding lack of sleep challenging? Well the odd thing is that I am one of those people who has risen early every day and love to do so. Short hours of sleep are quite usual for me so that is not the challenge - it is the intermittent nature of the sleep and the fact none of it is very deep. I am sure my age makes it worse but realistically if I were 20 or 30 years younger I would still feel much the same way.

20 or 30 years ago, I would not have had the facility to write this and tell everyone.

In Praise of Paternity Leave

It's not often, as an employer, that I praise Nanny State initiatives which are funded by private sector companies at a hefty cost, particularly if your business is a small one, but I find myself heartily behind the concept of Paternity Leave.

In my case, as I employ myself alone and therefore every hour I am not doing what I do I simply do not earn, Paternity Leave is funded 100% by myself as a lost opportunity to bill clients. However, I think it's worth its weight in gold as I am already not looking forward to going back to work on Monday and leaving my new son. This early time with him has been precious and I recommend it to all new fathers.

It's been a while since I last wrote so there is a lot to catch up on. Has age played a downside side so far as a Geriatric Dad of 50? In some ways it has taken a few years off me, believe me. It is always on my mind, in point of fact. Already, I am thinking what I will miss when my son is 18. I will be 68 then and likely not able to bowl at him in the cricket nets, play fathers vs sons at the school soccer match or be his doubles partner in tennis or even his Sunday League buddy in golf. But it has its upside for him - at least he will not have to wait so long for any inheritance as the rest of his friends. It's macabre, but these thoughts go through your mind. I also have been conscious of the older looking parents when I was a kid at school and when I have picked up my nephews. People do notice and we are going to have to deal with that when it arrives - and even though I am a young looking and behaving 50, I still look older than most parents.

Yesterday was an interesting test of my manhood. My wife was visiting an elderly friend who had suffered a bereavement and I was entrusted with junior, who took for his first walk in our Mamas & Papas Pliko Switch Pramette. After struggling to work out how to build and deploy the swish looking lining we had bought, I managed to have it all ready in time. It was a beautiful day and we walked along the rutted path - you get to feel every bump left by the zillions of cable companies these days on your aluminium frames - how the boy slept through that, I don't know. As we walked, I got a call from my wife's best friend who lived near by and had a friend and her mum in from New York - they wanted to see the boy if I could stand three clucking women. I steeled myself and walked there.

I skillfully negotiated the step in with the pram and took out the baby. Passing him around was easy and everyone was delighted to get a while with the baby. The inevitable happened - the baby woke up and he was hungry. The big test was on as all six eyes drilled down on me. How was I going to handle this amongst highly experienced mums. I reached for the Pod bag, removed a feed I had prepared, took out the muslin and put the boy in the crook of my arm and calmly fed him the bottle. Half way through, I put the bottle down and without missing a beat, I sat him up and, with no mean skill, deftly yet authoritatively, winded him, eliciting several load burps for the audience who applauded him warmly. I repeated the procedure before putting him over my shoulder and getting the last of the wind, then setting him to sleep to be passed around again. Hardly a peep out of the baby and a duly impressed audience. I was as nervous as a kitten to start but those who say you should never work with animals and kids in a show are wrong. I felt at the end as if I had passed an initiation test and had joined a sororiety as we all talked of 'cannonball breast syndrome' when the milk builds up and the merits of breast over bottle as if I was one of them. It was a curious feeling of being part of a 'coffee afternoon' and I felt as if I should watch 'Loose Women' as my next learning step, so much a part of the team I felt.

People always ask about nappy changing and how I coped to start with. To be frank, I found there was not much to it. Once you learn that you need to stop the squirming with a good grip on the feet to move the lower half and clean it, you are on the winning track. Modern day cleaning tools like cotton balls and warm water are great but when drying with cottonwool it leaves furry pieces in the cracks, literally. That can't be comfy so Pampers Sensitive wipes are an essential as they clean efficiently and leave a nice rubbery feeling to baby's bum after, ready for a nice new nappy. While we are into saving the earth, disposables are the practical way and it will all decompose nicely somewhere I am sure to become part of the cycle of life.

And there is the poo. Yep, you can have your own university course on the changes you will encounter. First couple of days it was the tarry meconium of the first born which needed soaking and a chisel to remove from baby's skin. Then you get some yellowy stuff which is best described as someone taking an open peanut butter sandwich and slapping it heartily onto baby's bum. Now we are at the roughly chopped, boiled and buttered spinach phase which is a little more gruesome to deal with. The volume is growing and so the 'spread' is getting larger while the smell is getting a little more toxic. You have to remember to look in all the nooks and crannies when cleaning and bathing but realistically, it is not that tough to deal with. Just wait until 'solids' kick in and the real pongs start, allegedly.

On the way home last night, after a day visiting, we decided to call in at L'Italiana Restaurant in French Row in St Albans - a favourite of ours and comes with our highest recommendation. Like all family run Italian businesses they love kids and they greeted us warmly and cooed over the baby. Such is the incredible generosity and warmth we have received from everyone, after we dined well and junior slept throughout, we walked out with a free drink each and a bottle of wine from the owners and the well wishes of the lovely staff including the prettiest of waitresses. Everywhere we go, we just find a warmness from everyone and that has been one of the most remarkable observations I can give. Except from the swine of a traffic warden who had given us a parking ticket. St Albans is an absolute nightmare when it comes to parking and enforcement - after 6.30pm you have crowded, impassable roads as people park everywhere while wardens still patrol 'soft areas' to hand out tickets causing traffic chaos. It really is the classic 'commission based' parking enforcement gone wrong - the council ought to be ashamed but they aren't as they they love the easy money it brings in.

And yes, fellahs, babies are babe-magnets. Young and old, women throw themselves at you. Well not you, the baby. Get with the program, they may smile and tell you nice things but they really just want to coo at and hold the baby - you are merely the object they have to sweet-talk to get what they want. But the attention is great - a bit like when the dogs were puppies. Like the dogs, make the most of it as when they get more mature, the girls no longer want to know.

Today we have the first visit from the Health Visitor, having been signed off by the mid-wife yesterday after Scott had put on nearly a pound in weight in the first 12 days and there is no longer any sign of jaundice - shame as that mid-wife was really nice. It's the next hurdle in what has been a real voyage of discovery.

And the sleep? Yes, there is lots of intermittent feeding during the night and so sleep is still an issue. The real 'Parent Fatigue' wears off and you get a routine, but yesterday I did a full night shift and let my wife sleep through - that's an advantage of mixing bottle and breast that the NHS dogma on 'breast is best' does not promote. Last night she returned the favour and, refreshed, I took over at 7.00am feeling like new. I am concerned for next week when I return to work duties as I will be travelling a lot in Europe and mum will have to cope without me for at least two nights a week. We have worked so much as a team on this that I do feel as if I am letting her down but I hope that we can get the routine just right so that she does not get too exhausted initially.

That's pretty much up to date. So far, age has not been too much of an issue but I can feel those old bones creaking a little. But there is nothing like a little baby in your arms to renew your vigour for life and peel back those years.

I feel very much younger every time I pick him up and that's a really good feeling for an old fart to have.

Name on The Register

Yesterday, our son was formally registered as having been born.

The morning started as normal but as the time neared I felt a lot of excitement about formally announcing to the officials-that-be that we now have a son and what his name is. I don't know why I felt like that, it's not as if Gordon Brown is going to put a call in to congratulate us or even, for that matter, the Mayor of Watford (if one exists). But it means our son has officially arrived and he has a genuine Birth Certificate for us all to lose at some point in his life.

Registering a Birth is a slightly stuffy affair. You have to call up and book an appointment with the registrar. I did so and the earliest time I got was two days forward. It's an old building with decent parking and I competed for attention with a wedding which was going on upstairs, though quite how they were going to get the elderly gentleman with a walking stick who had trouble with the shallow steps outside up there I was not sure. I was ushered in very swiftly and the nice man sat me down (no tea offered, none expected frankly) and he turned his computer screen to me. First he checked my wife's name and date she gave birth and picked off the fact that Watford General had recorded the birth on the system. We then went through a series of questions to ascertain addresses, where the parents were born and what we did for a living and then on to formally recording the name of our son.

The curious thing for me was that no real verification was required - I brought along the maternity records and red health book issued by the hospital, I even took my wife and I's passports. But none of that was asked for - registering a birth is a very simple matter, hardly requiring official input at all, in my opinion. When he asked if I wanted any copies and I told him 10, he did raise his eyebrows.

"10?" he asked. "Why so many?"

"We are a forgetful family," I replied. It was partly true but I was planning on sending some to relatives too - God knows why.

I understood why he was concerned. The poor chap had to individually print, sign and date each copy with his old fountain pen. It took a while and in total it cost £35 (£3.50 a copy).

Scott Edward exists. It's official. And we had a quiet sip of rose sparkly stuff to celebrate with our chicken risotto for tea.

Sleep Patterns

I should really label this as simply lack of sleep rather than sleep patterns as they are non-existent.

I have tried to ensure that mum gets her sleep and particularly calms down on doing things to make sure she is healing properly after the C-Section delivery. It's hard to understand it but it is major intrusive surgery that goes right through many important layers of membranes and muscles and so healing is not simple. In order to do this, I have tried to take on as much of the night duties as I can. Last night, mum noticed that I am getting really tired and, unusually for me, I have been struck by a heavy cold which is making me feel more run down. So she tried to handle things until about 2am but I found that the slightest noise would wake me and I would be up like a shot. It doesn't help that baby Scott has turned out to be fairly nocturnal. As I write, he is sound asleep after a good feed around 12.30pm and will be fitful when put in the basket at night even though he is perched on top of a DooMoo bean bag which he finds really comfortable.


I have found a few websites which cover the subject called Parent Fatigue Syndrome which is quite common, obviously. There are several which also give some handy tips for trying to cope with it and usually they come in the forms of '6 Tips to avoid tiredness' and similar. In some cases they reckon it could drive parents potty but for me it's just a numbing tiredness that makes you want to do no more than focus on your baby and that alone gives you the energy to survive.


Tonight we are going to try shifts where one of us looks after baby until 2am and then the other takes over with the sleeping person in the spare room. I have volunteered for the first shift as I think there is football on the TV tonight (European Champions League) so that should keep me awake, possibly. I hope this breaks the cycle of sleeplessness as it is the only down side in what has been an amazing first week.


On the dog front, and following on from yesterday, the female dog popped up and gently sniffed the baby as I watched carefully. She made no contact and just looked before walking away. I hope these are good signs along with their behaviour yesterday. The baby, for his part, seems fascinated by the big shapes that loom in his view and the occasional barking when the doorbell goes. Then again, he should be used to that as he has had 9 months in the womb to listen to those sounds.


We have had some more visitors and we were really touched when one of our neighbours popped in with a shawl with Scott's name embroided onto it. It was powerfully touching as his wife is direly ill at the moment and taking time to think of us was incredible.

Then again, we have been so deeply touched by the generosity of so many close family and friends that we are no longer surprised.

Meet The Dogs

It had been a worry for us - how would our dogs react to a new member of the family? And one that will upset the hierarchy at that.

As the pregnancy progressed, it was important to make sure the dogs didn't dive on my wife as they are apt to do, so we have definitely been different with them. They have also sensed a change, perhaps they pick up changes in hormones or sensitivities but they have certainly been different of late. Since the baby has arrived, their movements in the house have been curtailed. No longer can they roam freely from room to room or hop from furniture to furniture, they are confined to the kitchen, utility and lounge thanks to our series of well placed doors.

They are feeling down, that's for sure. The baby gets most of the attention and they spend lots of time alone while I am able to walk them less. Hopefully the latter will change soon but as my wife recovers, it's hard to be away for any length of time.

So today we let them get close to the baby and both were very curious and gentle. Both gave him a good sniff and tried to get close enough for a few little licks but no contact was made. The girl dog looks very maternal and concerned, while the boy is more concerned whether the baby will always get fed first and if it can throw a ball yet. The toys are the main targets - the girl has eyed the mouse with the music string built into its tail and I can see that getting swiped and mauled at some point soon. Cleanliness is the priority but we have also ruled that we should never have the baby in a room with the dogs without at least two adults present - you cannot afford to take a chance even if you trust your dogs like we do ours. Time will form a lasting bond between the child and the dogs but that has only just started.

We are getting little sleep. Young Scott gets crotchety for a feed in the wee hours at least twice a night and takes time to settle back which means I at least start him sleeping on me. While we know that this is not the best policy for getting him used to his basket, the fact is that I love having him near me. And while he sleeps on me, I sleep very little, mainly as I am too scared that I might move and he falls off.

We still keep getting gifts via post. A former colleague sent me a beautiful Baby Journal with lots of 'first things' to record in there like first nappy etc. Today two firsts happened - while I changed his nappy, the stub of his umbilical cord fell off to reveal a perfect tummy button and the second was that he puked over me with gusto this morning, raining milky vomit over my tee shirt and the lovely clean romper suit I had just put on him. We also had a parcel from France where one of my wife's clients sent a package of bath towels and a flannel.

Today, I have been really caught up by the emotion of it all - I guess it still had not hit me totally. I spoke to one of my sisters and my brother, then got a text from my elder sister. Between them all, in a quiet moment as I looked at my emails, I had a quiet weep to myself.

My son will get to meet a of lot of wonderful people that I love in his life but I thought of the people he will not get to meet. My parents are in the back of my mind all of the time and rarely I go a night without seeing at least one of them in my dreams. Right now, as far away as they may seem to be, I have never felt closer to my parents who died in 1991 and 1996 respectively and were the greatest influence on my life.

I am so glad that he will get to know his other grandparents who fell in love with him approximately 3 hours after he was born as the first visitors awaiting our return from the Recovery Area. Granny was 'horse whispering' him today and he stared back into her eyes as if listening to every word.

You can see that today has been a real weepy one - proud as punch one minute and a teary wreck the next. As we approach the end of the first week of our son's life I think I will have many more like these.

Bring it on.

Blurry Eyes

It's been a blur.

Mum and baby arrived home on Friday and the first night was troublesome so neither of us slept well as we were on tenterhooks. Baby has found feeding on Mum's colostrum difficult, which is the vital early milk produced for the few days after birth that is rich in crucial ingredients for baby's development. It is rich, quite thick and is produced in small amounts - making it tough for baby to draw down. Mum noticed on the second night that baby was distressed at feeding and decided to supplement with a bottle of SMA formula despite protests from the mid-wives. She has also taken to expressing extra colostrum to ease pains in her breasts but to produce more for the baby at feeding times with less difficulty.

At this point, you have to understand my wife is committed to breast feeding but she also knows you have to trust your motherly instincts. If baby needs more - give it. What he clearly needed was more volume and, specifically, fluids. Due to that early trouble feeding he developed mild jaundice, but now, in a combination of breast and bottle feeding, he has had his 6 day check up where it is typical for a newborn to lose 10% of body weight and he has lost just one ounce. That's a small victory for common sense over dogma and my simple advice to would-be parents is to use your own judgement as the NHS is so fixated on 100% breast feeding it is actually putting children's health at risk - or at least that's my opinion.

The other thing we learned early on is that 'skin to skin' is both awesome and really helpful at feeding times. Part of it is the shock of coolness on the skin from the air but most of it is the touch of the mum and it really helps in breast feeding. Another thing we learnt is that mid-wives are no experts - they have great experience but there is a huge volume of differing opinions and no actual right line. You have to take advice and trust your own judgement.

The first few days at home have been a huge learning curve amidst lack of sleep. I am exhausted so just imagine what mum feels like while baby is thriving - at the least the priorities are right. We found ourselves to be more prepared than we thought we were - the cot is ace, the moses basket excellent and the tons of outfits and nappies all went down well. Then came the overwhelming and incredible generosity of others - family and friends. Neighbours decorated the porch, sister-in-laws brought us box loads of hand-me-downs, the flowers were copious and then there were the gifts.

Tons of clothes - tons of clothes - some disguised at flowers in bouquets, shawls of vintage wool, toys of all sizes with a rat or mouse playing a lullaby if you tug its tail, a Welsh pillow with a sheep on it (well he has to grow up in the right environment), a silver spoon, books, DVDs shoes, mittens, socks, outfits - it is endless. We have a had a constant stream of visitors with neighbours walking across the courtyard to family arriving from Wales for just a few hours. The emotions have run high, the tea has flowed and the cakes have been vital. It's been a roller coaster of feelings and we still have to catch our breath when we look upon our little miracle and think how long we have waited for these moments and realise it was well worth the wait.

We've had a few wailing fits, plenty of soiled nappies, a few baths, baby weeing on himself when you are fumbling for a clean nappy, little bits of vomiting though not much, a couple of feeding issues but no real hassles, but nothing really prepared us for the 'Gestapo' or the initial visit of the mid-wives. Like 'dementors' from Harry Potter they arrive unannounced, creep around you and quickly suck the euphoria from you as they assume that you are bad parents and you have to prove them otherwise. Their line of questioning was to challenge my wife's decision to supplement breast with bottle asking for justifications. I was seconds away from asking whether I had missed something and that non-breast feeding had been outlawed in statute. Fortunately my wife had more patience. Another mid-wife arrived today when I was at the dentist and she was excellent, applauding the supplementary bottles and my wife's attention to the baby ahead of all else, echoing the Paediatrician's views in the hospital. A victory for common sense.

The feeling of tiredness is debilitating but you just take one look into his face and you get all the adrenalin you need.

24 Hours

Meet Scott Edward at less than 24 hours old. He's a handsome little fellow who we all agree has his father's nose and his mum's toes. These may not be things he thanks us for as a start in life but at least we will be able to pick him out in a crowd.

How can I describe our feelings at the moment? Exhaustion springs to mind. Mum had about one hour's sleep on the first night, I found it difficult to nod off and so had a stiff Scotch then fell into a deep slumber and overslept. So we were both not at our best for baby.

The problem of the day was that he had difficulty in feeding - he fed at 4.30am and then slept a good deal and had the most enormous ejection of meconium which I had to deal with and is a 'first baby thing' to remember, believe me. But baby decided that feeding was passe and so slept on the boob until he finally decided to latch on and feed at 5pm and then did not feed again until 10pm. By that time he was way crotchety and despite the best advice from the mid-wives he had studiously avoided slurping.

The trick, we have found so far, is to make sure he is wide awake and then to get 'skin to skin'. There is a lot of 'faddy' research on this but I cannot recommend it enough as a) it works and b) it's such a feeling for mum and dad alike - I am getting choked up just writing that as it is so special to have your new baby actually sleeping naked (bar a nappy) on your own bare skin. You see, the problem was not wanting his mum's boob - he was using it as a comfort - but to stimulate the action of feeding. By cooling him down, upping the lights and tickling his feet, he really got stuck in and his last feed before I left was a big one and he was much, much more settled. Mum was hoping to get at least a little sleep as she was far more tired than me. Having said that, I got to sleep just after 1am and was up again at 6.00am and I can tell you I am shattered with blood red eyes.

But that's a minor issue. The actual joy of being around this little bundle of delight is amazing. And we are just so chuffed at not only how many people have contacted us from far and wide but how touching all the thoughts are. It seems that not only we were trying hard to have this baby all this while, many of our friends and family were praying equally hard. That's a great start in life for the boy - no pressure then.

Talking of that - I had this from my brother, who has just gone potty over his new nephew. "I had a dream last night. There was Scott stood on top of Mt. Everest wearing his Emeritus cap and gown as Professor of Nuclear Physics from Cambridge University holding the Ashes urn in his hand. You'll have to have a harsh word with him as I don't want under-achievers in the family." No pressure at all then.

We are hoping that everyone can return home today. The doctors are happy with mum's progress and baby is looking fine, passing his early hearing test with flying colours and he looks good. So I lectured the dogs again last night and got them to sniff the baby's dirty clothes I brought home. Both seemed very excited but I have seen that sort of activity at Christmas time when they think each gift is for them and so they unwrap them. We shall see how jealous they get later - plus no jumping on mum's tummy.

I got home late last night and the neighbours (I am not sure which ones, but I have my suspicions, Lindsay) have decorated the archway outside our porch. It brought a huge smile to my exhausted face - and a second one in the dead of night when I awoke with a start and realised I had not put the recycling boxes out as it was bin day today. How stupid was that as I was up long before they arrived anyway - so be prepared for addled brains as part of the fatigue.

One of my sisters has indicated she would like to travel up from Wales for a short visit on Sunday and lots of friends and relatives will descend on us over the weekend. It augments my view that lots of people are rooting for this boy.

No pressure at all, really.

The Hand of God

At 3.07pm today, weighing in at 6lb 7ozs, our son was born by Cesarean Section. His name is Scott Edward and he came with a decent head of hair and fed almost the instant he was born.

Nine months zipped by in a flash. Reality never really set in and even this morning I did not really believe that we were at the end of an incredible journey. It was hard to believe I would return home a father.

Nothing prepared me for this moment. You could read a thousand books, see a million films, listen to a billion people - nothing prepares you for that first moment of new life, that you have created. I cannot find the words to describe the moment he was born.

The day had started early - we called the Delivery Suite at Watford General and they told us to get our backsides there fast. We were late on their requested time, but we needn't have rushed as our Consultant, Yunus Tayob was there but no midwives were. He told us that we would be on at midday and to go away and relax. We went down to the Knutsford Suite, really just to drop off our bags, but they opened our room and we sat there and relaxed until 11.00am when we went back to the Delivery Suite. We waited for over two and a half hours before we were summoned. Even then it took time. We changed and went for the prepping. A rather nervous lady anaesthetist tried to administer an epidural on my long-suffering wife and failed. Enter the Consultant anaesthetist who did in around two minutes - we were good to go then.

The procedure is brisk and after cutting, sluicing, prising and tugging, the baby's head appeared and Mr. Tayob told me to get round the front of the screen to take pictures. That view, that moment will live in my mind until I gasp my last breath. There was our son poking out of his mum's middle. Deftly, he was hauled out and held up for my camera like a fisherman displaying a prize catch.

Lots go on all around you and it's hard to take it all in. The boy blurted out a cry almost immediately then he was whisked away for cleaning by the mid-wife who also did a series of checks to confirm he was in rude health. Mum was stitched up all the while but before long she got to hold the baby first and was ecstatic. I was snapping away at whatever I could between tears and got my turn to hold our son.

Eventually we were taken to the recovery room where the baby took to the boob like a natural and fed for the best part of two hungry hours. Mum was sore but so happy while I was calling every relative and friend I could while texting loads more. I could hardly talk to my wife's mum while I choked up talking to her sister, her brothers and then my family. Everyone was so choked up we hardly actually said a word. The texted replies came cascading in from people as far as Australia and we choked up reading the warm messages and good wishes. In fact, we just choked up generally.

The NHS gets maligned for a lot of things (not least the £12 per day parking fees - how idiotic is that?) but the staff at Watford General were fantastic. The delivery team were superb, Mr. Tayob made having a C-Section like listening to your dad tell a story while he washes the dishes. The mid-wives were fantastic - professional and they lightened up the moment and helped us on all the things we had no clue about. Our assigned mid-wife for the receiving of our baby and the recovery was Nikki Glover - not only was she fantastic and attentive, she was drop dead gorgeous and great fun. She knew all that was needed to know, helped in so many ways, offered advice, and showed us what to do as if she had done this for 40 years. It was when she told us it was her mum's 50th birthday on the weekend that I realised that the NHS at least was giving great training.

We finally got back to our room in the Knutsford Suite at 7.30pm to be greeted by my wife's parents who were just delighted with their latest grandchild. Soon, my sister-in-law and her hubby arrived and we all took turns with the baby and took endless photos. I had got to put his first nappy on, dressed him in his first vest and outfit with cap, and wrapped him in his first blanket. I also got to change his first soiled nappy, clean his first dirty bum and administer his first wet wipe, and then put on his second nappy. It has been one hell of a day.

Young Scott shares a name with his Uncle who was chuffed to bits to have a nephew named after him. But it's been a day of chuffed people - my brother pointed out that there has not been a new son in the family to bear our name for 50 years - our Mum and Dad will be smiling down from heaven tonight, proud as punch for us.

It's difficult to write while trying not to cry - it's been that sort of day. Now I am back home, being greeted by two wary and put-out dogs, I realise life will never be the same again. The car seat in the car on the way back said it all. The Moses basket by the bed, the cot, the pram - our new way of life is all ahead of us.

While waiting for our new son to finish his third feed of the day before I came home, I leafed through a copy of New Scientist. It was going off about quantum communication between photons or something like it. I have a sort of scientific and questioning mind that looks at questions like creation with some degree of scepticism. I can reason to myself that life is but a random outcome of the amalgamation of a set of circumstantial events that happened to cause life - when you study it, life is just chemicals having an amazing party.

Then you watch your baby's head emerge from its mother's womb after nine months of gestation and take its first breath and instinctively fall in love with its parents and reach for a nipple.

At that moment, all logic flies out of the window - science is trivial, mathematics means nothing, quantum schmantum - at that moment you just know this cannot happen without some God, somewhere.

B-Day!

Nine months have flashed by and today is the big day - the day our baby will be born.

It's hard to believe and the whole nine months has seemed slightly surreal, with all the excitement crammed packed into not just the last month but it seems the last few days. Maybe it's because I am an old fellah, maybe it's because I thought my time had passed, maybe because I had become used to my life but the whole process of gestation has seemed to be just another nine months until the last few days.

It has suddenly dawned on me - I am not working, I am on 'Paternity Leave', or the equivalent for a father who does not get paid when he takes time off. When I typed out my email 'Out of Office' it seemed very strange putting that down. The phone was very busy yesterday with lots of texts and calls from well-wishers and friends and this has been one thing that both my wife and I have been bowled over by - the sincere hopeful wishes of all our friends and family who have been brilliant over the last 6 to 9 months.

In the past few days, I have constructed the cot (without too many expletives), erected the Moses basket, cleaned the baby's room, washed the curtains, constructed the pram, attached the isofix base to the car, put in the child seat, taken all the packaging to the tip and started an electronic scrapbook of the baby's life - codenamed for now, of course. Ah names. There has never been a problem on girl's names - there are so many beautiful ones - but boy names have been a source of frustration. It doesn't help that I offer daft ones - recently I pointed out that Dracula as a name gets a bad press and this year Osama seems popular. We still have not found the right one - and if it's a boy we will have to see what name suits him when he arrives.

My wife has been getting nervous and went into 'high nesting' mode in the last few days. She was a bundle of energy followed by a floppy heap, knackered out by her efforts. Yesterday, after repacking her bag(s) for the hospital several times, she started shredding a pile of documents for no particular reason other than 'they were there'. We did try and relax so we went to lunch in St Albans with her sister and two of her boys. There was a mixture of tears and laughter - it was just what was needed. Last night, we charged up all the cameras and I got all the makings of sandwiches ready to make this morning as it seems dads don't get fed. I checked with the hospital and all is set for today.

We have to call at 7.00am for instructions but we believe that our consultant, Yunus Tayob, has arranged for the C-Section this afternoon some time so there may be a chance of a breakfast - if not it is fasting for my wife for the day. I will make sandwiches and take cakes for her later as I have no idea what the arrangements are. I haven't researched some simple things like 'Registering the Birth' but I hope that will be easy. I am also hoping that my father-in-law can pitch in with the dogs as I will be away for the best part of 3 days - the dogs will have forgotten me by the time I return.

My wife is booked in at the Knutsford Suite private wing of Waford General Hospital - they offered to put me up at £161 per night but I could stay at Claridge's for less - besides, if it's not match day, then it's only 10 minutes away. If it is match day, then it's five - ha, ha a joke at the expense of Watford FC supporter(s).

It's not long to go now and bodies are stirring in the house. I will let you know what happens next! Damn, knew I had forgotten something - choosing the music for the delivery.

T Minus 5 Days And Counting

Only 5 more sleeps before the big day and baby is kicking up a royal fuss inside mum's tummy. We may not actually last that long at this rate.

Today we have a busy day ahead - a family lunch, then I get to watch the rugby (come on Wales!) and then we are off out for a curry with two couples from our NCT class, including Jess and Allen who were actually due to have produced their baby last Sunday. One of the things we learned was that sex and curry can help bring on labour so I think I can see a strategy here with Valentine's Day tomorrow. It will be great to catch up with them all.

Yesterday, one of my wife's colleagues arrived with a ton of baby things for us. A superb high-chair, a Bumbo rubber seat, a travel cot, a sling, a vibrating chair amongst other things - he couldn't get the playpen in his car. He has already brought us a spare pram and car seat. We were both overwhelmed with their generosity and while it has been a common theme this pregnancy, the thought of this couple in particular has been quite amazing. We feel very humble and lucky to have such great friends.

I finish work on Monday as does my wife - she has worked quite hard lately but she is that sort of person. The earlier part of the pregnancy - the critical time - she worked a good deal less and this has been a distinct advantage of having your own business. The downside is that if either of us don't work, we don't earn and she does not get any statutory benefits like normal employees. So I shall be taking 3 weeks off and, as luck has it, I will start a new contract for an longer period than usual on 8 March - from that point of view I could not be luckier. But the downside is that I will be doing a fair bit of international travel - the upside is that I will not be commuting 120 miles there and back to work each day and will be able to work from home on a regular basis when not abroad. On balance, I think I am better off.

Tomorrow, I will be assembling the cot. I have already burnt the manual as to refer to it would be cheating and pointless. If you are going to make a mess of things, better you do it so badly and without instructions so that you can really work up a foul temper, then throw what tools I have around the garden, swear profusely and storm off in a huff. Usually, my father-in-law will then help and he would do the same before botching the job. Between us we will build a cot of dubious quality and it will hardly be able to hold baby in for 5 minutes let alone a night's sleep.

I have re-tested the baby monitor and sent a few messages over the system to frighten the dogs and it works well, although we will have to keep it out of reach of the dogs as they have a tendency to lick the monitor when they hear a voice. I am sure that could disrupt reception over time. I am busy putting all the cameras on charge so that all those precious early moments are captured in full intensity in order to bore people with endless photos and films at a later date. I may have to buy an iPhone at this rate to make sure I capture every opportunity to get baby's mug in front of anybody, particularly strangers in shopping queues, airports or public toilets.

The excitement is building and I am carefully going over launch plans. What have we missed? There must be something.

The Final Countdown

Oh yes, there are just 9 more days to go and this household is getting nervous.

Over the last week there have been a few scares and pains from the remaining fibroid and we are getting nervous that things may start early but other than that there are no warning signs. Bags are packed at the ready and my phone is constantly on, waiting for a call.

The week kicked off well as the delivery of the 'heavy' items arrived from Mamas & Papas which included the pram, the car seat and cot as well as the isofix base unit. There was also the mattress for the cot and the whole thing looks bigger than expected and may test the roominess of our baby room. I have committed to work up to Monday of next week and then it is 3 weeks off to savour the early days of our baby. After a long, long wait over many years, it's hard to believe that this is all really coming true. After so many setbacks and disappointments, we are still not counting our chickens and so we are tempering excitement with the calmness of those used to let downs. But now we are well beyond 37 weeks and little can go wrong - or so we hope.

We met with our NCT class mates last Friday and the ladies were all visibly larger than 10 days earlier and there was a growing feeling of trepidation and excitement for all the dads. They are a genuinely lovely group and we look forward to being a part of it for a long time. A young couple, Jess and Allen, were due on Sunday but as yet no word. We are due next although we may get beaten by a couple new to the area, Stuart and Rachel. Then, in quick succession, come the rest. It could be either one massive 'baby's head wetting party' or several - either way I think there will be lots of proud mums and dads.

As expected and pointed out before, we are the oldest of the group by far but the bonding is more about the impending birth rather than a focus on age and that's really quite reassuring and nice. All of us are from very different backgrounds but by coincidence two of the ladies work in offices near my wife's while we are all linked by area. The whole NCT experience has been great for getting to know one another.

The final class had been on the subject of breast feeding and I assumed that this had little to do with the dad. Far from it. Clearly, we dads have an important role in keeping the mum on a routine and helping her cope through a fairly sleepless early period. Also, I think there is a role for me as chief nappy changer so that short course at the last NCT class will come in handy but the thought of a wriggling, weeing real baby poses a few more problems than the plastic dolly.

I suppose when you don't know about these things you just make simple assumptions. The baby will naturally want milk and therefore will find a nipple and get cracking. If only life were that simple. We were given a short lesson in the modern techniques by a mid-wife with fine credentials of her own (if you know what I mean, men). Holding the baby in the right position was a revelation obvious when you thought about it but a mystery to me beforehand. Addressing the nipple was not as I remember it, lads, and the baby has some important techniques to learn which may pay dividends in later life. Then we found out that rates of flow of milk can be different and the baby may draw less or more resulting in the body varying its production. We understood that 'expressing milk' was not a reference to a bloke arriving on a logo'd milk float but the mother inducing milk without the baby and storing it. A pumping device is used (or by hand) and I had thought it more appropriate to an Ann Summers shop rather than Boots but you live and learn.

Several men had important yet daft questions - we all now so little in reality. For instance, if you store expressed milk, should you note the time and day on the bottle and then try and match that when you actually feed the baby with it as milk produced at different times of the day has different constituents. A good question but too technical for our course leader who said just give them the milk and be done with it. I liked that simple approach.

Attitudes to breast feeding have changed. It is common place to see women feeding in public whereas growing up I can't ever recall such an occurrence. My wife is not the type to 'strip off' in public but she plans to have no issue with uncovering and feeding wherever she may be. Some people get offended by it and, to be honest, I don't know what I am going to feel about my wife baring parts of her top half but it is the most natural thing of all. Given we watch plenty of titillating, half naked women most nights on TV, I can't see what there is to get upset about - even if you are having your pie and chips at the time. I may be a grumpy old man, but at least I am a modern grumpy old man.

One thing I had not really understood was why we had bought so many nappies in advance of the birth. I mean, it's only small, how much excretion can a tiny baby do? Apparently a great deal. If the baby feeds every two hours in the first few weeks then the poor mite has to be changed after every feed. That's a lot of pee, poo, smells and nappy bags. I can see our investment in a nappy bin or two is required. I can also see plenty for me to do in that department.

People have been incredibly generous and so warm hearted in the run up to this baby. My sister-in-law arrived with a a whole kit of clothes, a toy and a tidy box with a complete start up set for a new born including nappies, baby oil, creams, wipes, Calpol (newborn) and more. It was so touching. A colleague of my wife's sent around a spare car seat and pram which was fantastic, while a couple arrived for a cup of tea last week and brought us a lovely pair of moccasin booties which we had to get back from the dogs who eyed them up as toys. We have been asked to produce a list for other family members and friends which I found curious but now we have a small list including a 'Glo Egg' lamp, a timer to help us keep a regime, a Bumbo rubber seat for the baby, a BabyBjorn carrier and a sling for lugging the baby around amongst a small amount of other stuff while recent parents have offered 'hand me downs' like toys and the like. We feel very humble.

Others have rung up just to offer support and help should we need it. Perhaps they know something I don't, but I am grateful for the offer anyway. It's all very appreciated. Maybe we are getting special treatment for being older parents or that people understand it is a special one for us after so long waiting - it doesn't matter, we have both been blown away by the generosity and well-wishing from all quarters.

I am glancing at my watch more often now, checking time and date. The big day looms and kicks off Monday with a visit to the anaesthetist and then it is plain sailing from there. The dogs are getting nervy of late and we saw a change in temperament from both over the weekend. Again, we are not sure they know something that we don't but they have become very nervous and little more clingy of late. Perhaps because they are walked less at the moment or they sense hormonal changes or whatever. It's going to be a big change for those two so it may be as well that they are sensing things are different. Let's hope that's for the better.

I shall try and keep a more regular log of the countdown but it's T-minus 9 days and counting. All systems nominal, as they say in the movies. Whatever that may mean.

I Know Everything

On Friday I completed the second full day course in our NCT ante-natal training. Therefore, I am now complete with my knowledge and ready to tackle a real baby. Oh yeah?

The day was started with detail into forms of pain relief on the B Day and the choices open to the mums. From full epidurals to the 'Harmony Room' at Watford General there is a wide range of options on how to relieve stress and pain and make the birth experience do-able. The concept of a Harmony Room was mildly intriguing and is apparently a dimly lit room with bean bags and disco ball rotating, incense and aromatherapy candles, soft music and the mid wife wears a Afghan coat and tinted glasses while the assisting doctor looks like a 1970's porn star - I assume. Quite why that would rid a mother-to-be of the excruciating pain of child birth I don't know but each to her own, I suppose.

I think what got to a lot of mums was that there was a wider choice than they expected and that it was pretty much within their control as to what they could use and when. This countermands our concept of a hospital where we go in expecting to be told what's wrong with us and then prescribed treatment to get better. In the process of childbirth, the mother effectively tells the medical people what she wants. The information available on this is actually both bewilderingly wide and bafflingly indecisive. What I mean by that is there is no shortage of information on each option but there is nothing that helps you tailor it to you. Many of the mums had stories of friends or family members who had used this or that and the others listened avidly but then sucked in their breath and concluded they had no idea. In the end, the course leader, Kim, basically said that often mums left it flexible - saying that you can opt for say gas and air but tell the staff you will let them know, in screams presumably, that you need something more as you go along.

This brings up the concept of the Birth Plan. This is some kind of document which states what you have planned in terms of medication for pain relief during the birth. It seems a might definitive and that's where Kim suggested that it is wise to have it written on the plan that this is what you would like but that you reserve the option to ask for more as you go along. Should you write that your plan has no other options to it and you feel as if you need it, often the mid-wife will argue with you at the most inconvenient of moments and persuade you that you really don't want it as you have written previously that you don't. It's the sort of decisions under duress thing that medics don't like and spoils their ethics. My take on the subject was that mums should not be too definitive in their Birth Plans and keep some 'wiggle room' for those moments when the pain gets pretty unbearable.

We got to learn about 'Gas & Air' which is the gas administered during the birth famously breathed by Del Boy in Only Fools & horses as his partner, Raquel, was in labour. It is a mixture of 50% nitrous oxide (or Laughing Gas) and 50% oxygen, called Entonox. It is also used by paramedics when you have had a nasty accident like a broken limb. The trick with Entonox is to time the breathing with the contractions so that its mild analgesic effect is at its peak when the contraction is at its peak. While it is popular in births, it is only a short lived pain relief and it is only mild which means all sensations are really still there and the whole thing is self administered and self-regulated - you breath more when you want to. The downside is that it is only short lived and only mild. The upside is that it only takes a short time to work and can be combined with most other forms of pain relief.

Pethidine is another common drug to be used. It is an opioid analgesic and as such is quite strong. As most druggies would tell you, opioids work by mimicking endorphins in the brain - the natural painkillers the body produces and so effectively cuts the brain off from the source of the pain. It's pretty effective but can produce drowsiness and lightheadedness which my sister tells me probably prolonged the birth of her child unnecessarily which is a common theme with the drug in childbirth. Your mid-wife can tell you more but it is generally administered as an injection into muscle such as the bum or thigh by the mid-wife.

Epidural is the 'Mama' of pain relief strategy during birth. It is a mixture of drugs administered by a trained anaesthetist by an injection between the third and fourth vertebra in your back. It is then controlled by a tap and bag hanging beside the bed. The mum can even have a button to press to administer more but it is a time release valve so pressing it more than once or in between doses does not actually do anything. Depending on your choice, the epidural can numb the entire bottom half of the body and so you don't have to feel a thing or you can have a setting less than that. If in labour the mum has remained flexible on pain relief, it's important to give the staff enough time to administer the epidural as only trained people can do so and it has to be done before 8-10cm of dilation, otherwise it's pointless as it will miss the most intense period of pain.

Epidurals are one of the most hotly debated areas by mums as many don't like the idea of having their spinal chord being invaded or having the sensation of paralysis, which totally restricts movements and birth positions. Also, the epidural can take away the entire sensation of pain which also makes the act of pushing hard as nothing is felt so there is no gauge as to how hard the push is being done, you literally watch it on a monitor. However, it is a highly effective form of pain relief.

The pain relief discussions over, we got onto how to deal with a baby. Here came the hilarity of watching grown men handle a plastic doll as if it was a baby, to change its nappy and to bath it. Naturally there was a good deal of fun and banter in the room and the sight of one girl holding her doll in a 'chin hold' while she wrote and men attempting to change positions of the baby without supporting necks or chests. Putting the clothes back on caused problems for me but generally I concluded that changing a baby was a doddle until Kim pointed out that real babies squirm and cry while you do it and often pee or poo at the most inconvenient moment in the process. I noted to myself that I should have a list of rules I would read to my baby shortly after birth which I will pin to the cot wall but my wife seemed to think that may not work.

Finally, we got to the best part. Everyone had brought along a piece of equipment or something else which had been bought for the early days of the baby. One lady brought half the wardrobe of great stuff bought from the highly recommended TK Maxx, while her hubby demonstrated a Tomy intercom device to monitor the baby from afar. That stole my thunder as by the time it got to me, two of those devices had already been demonstrated and the second was the 'Which?' magazine top pick, the BT model. At £55 it was the bees knees, so my Philips version was £77 from Amazon and not as good - I was gutted. Still ours was yellow and my sister had bought us a battery charger unit so I felt more prepared - plus ours had a handy travel bag. My wife demonstrated the bargain changing bag she bought for £44 (down from £88 in the sale) from Blooming Marvellous in St Albans. It outclassed the 'Baby K' one from Boots (this is the range with Myleene Klass' name on it) from another couple and was less practical for the dad as it was very girly and had a mock leopard skin interior. At least I could be seen with ours and look only mildly effeminate. Seriously, there are some good ones on the market with pods for wipes, creams, nappies, even a little nappy bin, bottle holders and changing mats - our sister-in-law tells us they are essential and our one was her choice too (hers is a more girly red, ours is a metro-sexual black).

Our final NCT session is on Wednesday evening and it is on breast feeding. Kim is planning that we all get together for before the first birth due in early February and already we have bonded well with all the couples in the group. Afterwards we plan for a swift drink at a pub. My wife has planned to meet two of the wives who work close to her in London and the guys I would gladly have a walk, pint or coffee with each other any time.

I think that is the best part of ante-natal classes - the people you meet are discovering about child care at the same time and there is a real kindred spirit. Whatever their backgrounds there is a common link and a feeling that we are going into this daunting and exciting experience together and we were all prepared to make a fool of ourselves in the interests of learning a bit more. The network of friendships formed this early will be there for some time, possibly for life. NCT was well worth the money, I cannot commend Kim Hay, our course leader, more highly. It was money well spent and we are looking forward to Wednesday evening immensely.

If you had asked if I would be thinking that way before the course started - I would have laughed at you. Then again, there are many aspects to parenting that have surprised me by my own reaction. They say it changes your life.

It does.

An Uncomfortable Week

This is week 35 and by all accounts our little bump is now growing considerably.

Learned estimates put the brute at 18.2 inches and around 5.3 pounds give or take a bit although my wife does not look huge. There are pains, though. She is due at the mid-wife's today but the baby's head and movements around the fibroid are causing severe discomfort in short, but annoyingly regular bouts which wakes both of us up during the night. It appears only my fatherly fingers lightly stroking what we think is the baby's head actually stops the grinding against the fibroid and eases the discomfort which brings immediate relief.

We are concerned. The baby's regular movements higher up the tummy cause no real problem in terms of pain and still the undulating surface causes the strategically positioned TV remote control to bob around as if moved by waves on the sea - a source of endless fun while watching a film or something. The nastier pains usually come when my wife is lying on her back and we have tried these funny V-shaped pillows but they don't help much. The nagging concern is that these pains may grow in the build up to the final weeks and cause an early delivery, so our bags are well and truly packed and ready - both cars fuelled up.

This week, there is once again a severe weather warning for tomorrow and as I travel to Basingstoke for work, I am already making contingencies as leaving my wife on her own while in such discomfort and with the spectre of an early birth is not sensible. So I shall be trying to make sure I am near by and have the 4 wheel drive saloon car on stand by.

By coincidence, a colleague at work is also a 'senior' dad - his partner and he having their daughter 5 months ago and he is full of excitement and pictures on his mobile. We had a kindred chat about the problems that endometriosis can cause around conception and there was a similar story about the early pregnancy that indicated that the low progesterone level my wife suffered which almost caused a miscarriage again, was not as uncommon as we had been led to believe. What we both found is that fertility, for all its incredible techniques and detailed knowledge as a research area, was still a fairly inexact science and sometimes there was an air of 'trial and error' or lack of attention to the obvious that seemed to pervade. At least that seemed to be our experience despite all the praise we have for all the people who have helped on the way. In our experience, it was a lowly nurse who spotted the problem and, in our opinion, saved the day when more experienced and highly regarded specialists failed to heed the warning signs - or perhaps they were looking for something different.

No matter. Baby is on its way and the excitement and trepidation continues to grow. This week is another NCT Class and in 2 weeks the cot, pram and car seat arrive. In a last defiant stand, I have arranged a man's weekend in Spain in may for 'work' purposes and in June a long weekend in Las Vegas for a relative's birthday.

Once a man, always a man.

Dogs And A New Baby

I have blogged on this before and if you google the subject of 'Dogs and a new born baby' you will find a whole host of information on the subject.

It's a more serious problem than I first eluded to as we have TWO beautiful border collies and they are our pride and joy. From their perspective we are their pets - they roam the house, sleep where they want, play where they want and use any old object as toys although they usually stick to lots of balls of all types. But if baby toys are around then they will certainly play with them.

In fact, only yesterday my brother and sister-in-law brought around their two twins of just over a year old. There were tons of family there so the dogs loved it. Around the twins they were superb and they have seen many young children and have always been fantastic. The breed is meant to be 'medium' when it comes to liking kids but in fact we have found both to actually thrive with kids. The female dog is more wary of very young children and so will usually keep out of their way, yet yesterday she went up and quietly smelt the backs of their heads and gave gentle licks. The boy dog, meanwhile, loves interaction and so he was going about his normal games but actually avoiding the children as he ran around. He also went up and sniffed each twin and gave gentle licks on the nose. The dogs also stole a plastic duck to play with which they have now claimed as theirs. Alarm bells rang on all counts.

So while our dogs do not appear dangerous with kids - in fact, quite the opposite - the problem really revolves around the way they take toys and generally how they interact with the kids in terms of curiosity and, particularly, licking. We also have a brilliant picture (above) of the boy dog with a friend's 1.5 year old daughter on his back as she rode him, holding onto his ears for support - child and dog loved it.

There are other serious issues. Firstly, the dogs are the centre of our attention. They get played with, they want cuddles and they have tons of walks. They have the run of the place. So if a new child comes into the mix, they may no longer be the centre of attention and they will certainly not have the run of the place - jealousy may come into play. The second thing is that dogs carry germs. No matter how often you bath your dog or think they don't smell - they are still animals and they have lots of bacteria on them, on their rears and mouths. They love to lick and sit so you can imagine the kinds of possibilities here. They are walking and living dangerous things just from the fact they carry bacteria around.

We are meticulous in the way we wash our hands and handle food but we are going to have to step up a gear. Lots of anti-bacteria gel and thoroughly cleaned surfaces and feeding things. We are also going to have to ban the dogs from upstairs where the baby sleeps as they roam at nights, sleeping where they want. There is also fur - we have tons of it around the house and we wash things so many times that we regularly fill up the filter on the washing machine which has to be cleaned out. This is going to have to change. The lawn is a human no-go area no matter how many times we clean up out there - these things are now real issues to us where once we were laissez-faire about the two animals.

They are not going to like all this clamping down and new rules, that's for sure. And they won't like not being No. 1 attention-magnets in our house. I have tried talking them through it, introduced them to the 'bump', made constant references to the arrival of a new 'baba' plus we have attempted to let them know the new rules. Either they don't understand Powerpoint, can't read memos or they are ignoring me.

We don't want to curb our dogs too much but we are going to have to get them used to the idea of a new baby and what they can and can't do right from the start. There are plenty of tips and articles on websites about this but we have a headstart. Border Collies are extremely intelligent dogs and the boy dog currently responds and differentiates between around 50 and 100 different words, objects and commands. The girl just lets on she doesn't know. The command 'leave' is the strongest they have both learnt and that will be a major help. The first steps of introduction will be vitally important to set the proper scene and we will have to make sure that we still give ample attention to the dogs as well as the baby.

What most of the articles do say is that the mum has to re-assert herself as the leader of the pack - the alpha. My wife has no problem with this as she is seen as the household matriarch by everyone already and I am down the bottom of the ranking stack in the dogs' minds although the girl dog is definitely as daddy's girl. However, the point is well made. The key things for us is to watch out for are jealousy and stealing.

But in the back of my mind, I certainly do not ever want to leave our dogs alone with the child even for a second. As much as we love our dogs, they are animals and we should never forget it.

Cleanliness means more washing and thorough attention to detail and several 'dog-free' zones declared in the house. I wish we had a larger garden to segment an area where the dogs cannot roam but that will not be possible - we will just have to make sure we clean up more often and lay blankets down in the warm weather.

But we are also very much looking forward to having fulsome family. My wife and I both believe the dogs will thrive on having a new family member but we will be very, very cautious in those early weeks and months.

After that, I will post the pictures of them all playing.