The helpless blog of a first time dad: Humour has no place where hormones are concerned

This will come as news to her but it’s true and I can give you an example.

But first I must give you a bit of background and make a confession – I have an inappropriate sense of humour.

By that I mean I can try and be funny at the wrong time and about the wrong things.

I’m not in Jimmy Carr’s class (or lack of) and in my defence it mainly stems from a feeling of discomfort that comes over me in serious situations, so I try and make a joke out of them.

Now as you’ll know if you read my previous blog entry, at our 20-week scan I had something to feel uncomfortable about.

The sonographer had found a small cyst in our baby’s brain and although we were assured it sounds worse than it actually is in 99 out of 100 cases, it does set you back a bit when you’re hearing it for the first time.

After this, the sonographer moved on to check the placenta.

This involved my wife’s lady parts and a stick like thing with a rounded transducer head at the top.

You probably think you know where this is going but you’re wrong. The thought didn’t occur to me – yet.

The stick like thing with the rounded transducer head probed my wife and picked up on the fact that the placenta was lying lower than it ideally should.

Again, we were assured by the sonographer this was nothing to worry about (I had less trouble believing her about this) but we’d have to come back at 32 weeks for another scan to check if it was still in the same position. If it is, my wife may have to have a Caesarean-section.

“Are there any postures to avoid or exercises we can do that might help it to shift?” I asked trying to be supportive although knowing that my wife hates the word “we” when talking about the negative aspects of pregnancy (“we haven’t been sick,” “we haven’t got permanent indigestion,” “we haven’t had to give up chorizo”).

“You should refrain from having sex,” the sonographer responded.

At this point my bottom lip curled under my top one and my eyebrows furrowed, a sure sign for someone who has known me as long as my wife that I’m about to say something funny but inappropriate.

My wife caught my eye with her best “don’t you dare” glare.

But all this seriousness had got too much for me. I felt really uncomfortable. And the sonographer had touched a bone of contention between me and my wife.

“Refrain!” I blurted. “The evidence of the last time we did anything like that is wriggling about on that screen,” I said, nodding towards our baby scan.

Well, that’s not true actually. Neither bit. But the only bit you need to know is that I didn’t really say that.

Because that would have annoyed my wife and with her hormones being the way they are you really do not want to annoy my wife at the moment.

Honestly, living with her is like playing a permanent game of Buckaroo. She could go off at any moment.

I took a phone call late in the day at work last week in which she asked aggressively if I had washed the salad in her wrap because when she’d got home she’d found “the colander was still in the same position where I placed it last night.”

What hormone required in the making of my baby son or daughter could possibly inspire a woman to set a colander trap to make sure I was washing the already “pre-washed in spring water” salad I was putting in her lunch?

In recent weeks she has told me both my breathing and the way I eat annoys her. If these two fairly essential practices in my ongoing survival irritate her you can imagine where an inappropriate sense of humour will get me. So I’ve had to learn to bite my tongue. And be less annoying.

The helpless blog of a first time dad: Hasta La Vista, baby – whatever gender you may be

And it’s not just her temper that has been affected by her hormones.

We watched Love Actually at the weekend. I knew this would probably make her cry and sure enough she started blubbing uncontrollably at the bit where they sponsor a guide dog puppy.

Now if you’ve seen Love Actually you’re probably thinking “I don’t remember a bit where they sponsor a guide dog puppy.” Well that’s because there isn’t one, it was an advert that aired before the film had even started!

And she can also be incredibly happy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her laugh as wholeheartedly as she has in the past month or so. Her whole body shakes. It must be like living on the San Andreas Fault for poor Junior.

Of course, I doubt she’ll laugh at this blog. Cry possibly, but I think kicking her back legs in the air like a donkey and shedding all the items she’s carrying on her person is the most likely reaction.

I’m learning to fear her retribution. Her complaint about my breathing came accompanied by a whack in the face (she’s at a size now where sleeping is starting to get uncomfortable, so she was lying awake and apparently I have an annoying breathing pattern when I’m asleep – so she punched me).

So I don’t think I’ll show her this particular blog. What she doesn’t know won’t harm me.