You’re now coming up to 7 weeks kid. We have our first scan together tomorrow morning to see how you’re getting on in there. We’re pretty pumped about it. I just hope when the doctor says ‘there, can you see the baby’ I can actually see something and don’t end up looking like a 2 year old trying to find fucking Wally.

Mum leaked the news to someone extra over the weekend – Katy. She didn’t even ask me if it was OK to do so. You see, we had previously agreed to consult each other before telling anyone and she goes and blurts it out within the first 5 minutes of having breakfast with her! I was pretty dirty I can promise you that. However, on reflection I know it’s hard…like really, really, really fucking hard to keep the news that you are on your way to ourselves so I let it go pretty quickly. I have wanted to tell so many people because I’m so excited.

I was out to dinner on Friday with Steve and Sarah (you’ll meet them too – they’re also part of the inner circle) and asked Mum if I could tell them. She said yes, so I did. They’re both stoked for us and I feel relieved for having told someone at last!

The only symptom Mum is really showing is a need for sleep… whenever she can get it… all the time! I think she’s actually looking forward to having more symptoms so the whole situation becomes more real… like ‘holy shit! We’re having a baby!!’ real. I was sure she was going to talk herself in to having morning sickness. She literally told me every day that morning sickness is due to start in 3 days, 2 days… tomorrow. (These bloody mobile apps!) There were 3 or 4 calls of ‘I feel a bit nauseous, this might be it – I’m going to be one of those that has morning sickness’. And if I do that means it’s going to be a boy according to an ‘old wives tale’. Panic over… I don’t think you’re causing Mum any sickness. Now I’ll look like a right fuckwit if she ends up being sick every day!

Holy shit! What an amazing experience. We went to the doctor yesterday to have a quick scan and see how things are progressing. Our very first photo of you and it was every bit as exciting and incredible as I thought it would be.

So we get to the doctor’s surgery and I go in as Mum is running a little late. The traffic at Trade Centre is an absolute joke at peak time. If you end up being an expat brat you’ll come to understand what is possible and what is not around peak times in Dubai. FYI: If it turns out that way and you do become an expat brat I will have your Mum slap the expat brat out of you. Some of these spoilt, entitled little wankers here need an old school clip around the ear (some of them even a closed fist to the face)!

Apologies, I digress… we go into the consulting room and sit down. Behind the doctor I can see this enormous machine in a dimly lit room. Mum goes in first to strip down as this is an internal type of ‘activity’. Then we see these 2 distinct formations one is the ‘food pouch’ for want of a better description which feeds you as the placenta and umbilical cord are yet to form and the other is beautiful you. And if I look closely I can see your heart fluttering at 170 beats per minute! That has to be close to the speed of a humming birds wings flapping furiously while it takes along drink of nectar… rapid AF!

Me and Mum then go and have a quick coffee and gush over each other about what we’ve just witnessed… the growth and development of our beautiful baby Bean. Everything is as it should be and you’re just over 6mm long and we have had to adjust the approximate date of birth to 11th May 2018. I think Mum more so than me is somewhat relieved or at least less stressed as it is becoming much more real to us now. Because Mum has no real symptoms of pregnancy except sore boobs and the need for a lot of naps this exercise provides us both with a bit more reassurance that yes, we are indeed having a baby!

Oh yeah, we sent the black and white still photo to your grandmothers and I’m pretty sure they both almost exploded in a fit of joy. Daisy and Rai are excited by the snap as well but not as much as your Grannies… bless them x