Dear baby,

This week we got to see you for the first time! You were moving about like crazy. Maybe that explains why I’m still feeling so ill. Yes, that’s right. Still ill! I’ve even taken to openly vomiting in public now. I’ve made a few deposits outside the casino this week. Fortunately, I just look like any other drunk fool coming out of there at 8.30am. Never mind the fact that I’m freshly showered and wearing work clothes.

Anyway, I was surprised at my reaction of seeing you. We had the most lacklustre sonographer ever. He couldn’t be less enthusiastic about it. Nevertheless, when he said, “there’s your baby” I started to cry. It was one of those moments where you don’t even feel the tears coming. A little like my wedding day. I can only assume that means they were tears of happiness! Either that or both getting married and having a baby are so terrifying they bring your mother to uncontrollable tears!

Funny story though. While we were waiting at the sonographer’s office (he was nearly an hour late) your father pointed out two other people in the waiting room. Now, I haven’t told you about this, but before you were born your Dad and I spent seven and a half years renting an old art deco flat in St Kilda. I believe the apartment was built in 1926. It had no insulation whatsoever, which meant that we could hear our neighbours all the time. We couldn’t hear every-day noise, like the TV or chatter, but we could always hear when people were, let’s say, feeling amorous. In the last six months before we moved a couple occupied the downstairs area. They were the noisiest couple ever. Not only that, but they would go for hours, and multiple times a day. I was woken at least once every weekend with this woman screaming. It was unbearable! One night your Gran came over and couldn’t stop laughing at the noise coming from downstairs.

To get back to my funny story, while we were in the waiting room, this couple was there. I couldn’t believe it! Your Dad said he was surprised it hadn’t happened to them sooner! Oh, and I didn’t tell you the worst of it. They are not attractive people at all! Somehow that makes hearing their love-making worse.

All joking aside though, it was lovely to see you. Your little fists were pumping in the air, your heart was going so quickly. I think it made it more real for your Dad too, which is nice. For me it’s so real, but it’s not for him yet. I guess that’s because he can still eat and drink what he likes and doesn’t have to vomit all day, every day.

Yesterday morning we told your three UK cousins. They were so excited. Your cousin S actually said, “pinch me, is this really happening”? She has since sent your Dad six emails with baby names on them, in alphabetical order no less. Her boys’ names were actually quite good. There’s no negotiation room on the girl’s name I’m afraid. But I don’t mind if you’re a boy or a girl. I have a feeling you’re a boy, but who knows?

I read that throughout next week you get fingerprints. How funny! Such a tiny little detail to get so soon. Your human identifier at just 13 weeks.

We told your great grandparents, Great Nana and Great Granna, today. They were so happy for us. I was so nervous about telling them. I don’t know why, I just knew it would make them pleased as punch. I’ve always had a very special relationship with them – sometimes they’ve been very much like parents to me. I think when you have such young parents, your grandparents really play such a large part in your life.

Your Great Nana gave me some little gloves for your tiny hands, and a little onesy. It’s a little feminine so I’m not sure it’ll reach you if you’re a boy. She argued it was unisex, but I’m not so sure. Plus, if you’re a boy I’m going to be dressing you in nerdy cords, shirts and vests at all times anyway. You poor thing!

Next: Week 13

Not there yet? Read about week 11.