Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Wanted: enough babies to form own rugby team

E., like many men, takes his time in making up his mind about certain things. We are opposites in that regard- he agonises and swithers and gnashes teeth over things big & small, while I am prone to sharp and decisive choices. Not always the right ones, I might add, but at least I get on with it.

Once E.'s mind is made up, he will backtrack on more than one occasion. Forget second guessing, this is more like quadruple guessing. Did we buy the right flat? Yes, we did. Or, no maybe we didn't? In which case, should we sell said flat and move somewhere else? Or no, we like the flat. Do we like it? Yes? Do we? Yes, yes, we like it. We'll stay. In the flat we bought and not sell it and move somewhere else.

You'll find me halfway up the curtains during most of these conversations.

Unsurprisingly, E. has taken this same approach to having a family. But he knew how important it is to me to have a baby, so while I suspect he had many of the usual tossings and turnings over what to do and when to do it, he kept pretty quiet about it up til now. He's been a good team player so far, showing up to bat at the right times, making encouraging coaching noises during the two week wait,
doing his bit in the embarrasing test department.

But I know E. And I know that he wasn't, even after 11 months, completely there. Part of it is denial, because he thought it was going to be so easy. Part of it is the ambivalence of doing something which really calls into question our willingness to go the distance to be parents. And part of it is just that guy thing where they bumble along with brain half engaged because they can.

However, I know now he is committed. He phoned me tonight to tell me about a newspaper article that bothered him. Apparently a local rugby club have, unusually, fathered 15 babies between them this year with three more sprogs on the way. E. found himself having odd palpitations as he viewed the pictures of these men all clutching their bouncing bundles of babyness.

"That should be us," he says. "I know, I know. Though maybe not the rugby team part of it. That's a little weird," I replied.

"We must have a baby. We must. A [insert his surname hypen my surname here] hybrid must be made!"

He proceeded then to tell me how a plan of action was needed, urgent and immediate action.

"Sex would be a start," I told him. "Then we will! Lots more! This month," says Decisive Man.

Mmm...difficult when he is going to be away during the crucial week on a trip with the boys to Amsterdam. Perhaps it would have helped if he had seen the newspaper article before he booked that trip.


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