She's got a rumbly in her tummy

Daeng is pregnant.

Yes, I'm going to be a dad. It's all very surreal typing this sentence, even moreso as each time I say or type those words it remains as novel, unfamiliar and as striking as the first time it passed my lips. My body is rejecting to build a tolerance and each time is the polar opposite of deja-vu.

Don't get me wrong, I love what is happening and all the change that he or she will bring. I couldn't be more excited to be honest, it's what we've wanted for a long time though nothing quite prepares you for the realisation when it strikes. Furthermore, I'm assured that this tingling apprehension all morphs into something altogether different (and better) the instant a crying, defenceless dependant is placed in your hands. Until then, here we are.

Poor old Daeng isn't having a great time of it with morning sickness but it seems, on average, to have been getting better the last couple of weeks. It goes without saying she's totally excited too, though a tiny part of me wonders if this is her new excuse to eat as many litres of ice cream as Wall's produces each day.

Our baby is due at the end of January next year. We don't know the sex yet (next month's scan should prove that), though we have some ideas for names lined up for either eventuality, "Flake", "Neopolitan" and "Cornetto" having already removed from the list.