That title is not referring to me in some kind of macdaddy pimpin gangsta term, nope, as it says on the tin - in but a few months I'm going to be a dad.
Let's roll back a few months. Cas and I had decided to start trying, casually with no real expectations of an immediacy in results. For one, my dad had a low sperm count and I had in the back of my mind that therefore I may do too. I have never had the "pleasure" of finding out for sure if that was indeed the case, and I never really spoke about it other than the odd joke (quickie somewhat of a defence mechanism, as those who know me will testify). I would mention that as I am one of four, a low sperm count didn't do my parents chances of conception any harm at all, except perhaps that all of the fellas that he was missing, must have been little pink and fluffy Girly ones as I have 3 brothers.
The other reason was that Cass's pill, cerazzete, was renowned for taking up to like 2 years to potentially conceive. So, with this in mind we gave it a go and would just see what happened.
Not long after we had all the issues with Maisy, her back and her illness. I wrote a long and emotional post about that here. At the same time, Cas was suffering pretty badly feeling sick and with nausea. We put it down to the grieving process with Maisy, and in hindsight, were totally wrong. The symptoms persisted and Cas went to the doctors for some blood tests.
I remember that I was in the office in Bristol when Cas phoned to tell me the news from the bloods, everything was fine - oh, and she is pregnant. I couldn't contain the grin on my face, but, not sure what the etiquette is for announcing these things, tried to play it down with the guys in the office.
Doing some quick mental maths, I worked it back to either being 6 weeks, or 8 weeks. Cas had taken a pregnancy test, which showed up negative and so there must have only been a couple of occasions that could be accountable.
We were soon to find out, at what was supposed to be our 12 week scan, that Cas was actually 16.5 weeks gone! That meant that little Dobby is due on 3rd April 2011, a week or so after my own birthday.
Just to explain, we haven't decided to name our son or daughter after the Harry Potter house elf, but Cas and I used to joke that with my ears and her nose, any off spring was more than likely to bear some degree of resemblance.
As of writing this post, we are now at 23 weeks, and all is well. Cas's illness has settled down, all tests and scans have shown up as well as can be determined, and we have chosen not know the sex - one of life's great surprises. That said, I am now determined not to be told, but to work it out with the evidence I have at hand...