Diary Of A Dad To Be: Our tricky 20-week scan

It was meant to be straight forward. We had booked in for our 20-week scan and had both agreed that we wanted to know the sex of our baby.

My partner was keen to find out so that she could plan the nursery’s colour scheme and I’m, well, just impatient.

If the baby was a boy, we’d already decided we were going to call him Harry but the jury was out on a girl’s name.

We’d even taken something of a gamble and had bought a beautiful patchwork cushion with Harry emblazoned across the front in huge letters from a craft shop in Fowey during a summer break.

So there we were, at the point of finding out whether we were having a son or daughter. Or so we thought… For it was at this point that we realised our baby was either very awkward or a contortionist in training.

First of all its legs were in the way of the vital bits that would determine its sex, and then its arm.

Unusually for this particular infant, it also decided it was going to play a game of statues, hardly moving when normally it would be doing somersaults.

After completing all the necessary tests, filling in the relevant forms and chatting about the weather our radiographer decided there was only one thing for it. Turn my partner upside down to encourage the baby to move.

So there she was, at a 45 degree angle gripping, onto the bed for all she was worth with me practising what I am expected to do during the birth – sitting there looking hopeless.

Thankfully there was a TV screen above the bed, relaying the incredible efforts that were going on to identify our child and, as I am an expert at staring gormlessly into these things, that is exactly what I did.

And it was at that point that the baby changed position and we got a perfect view of, well, not much.

I stared, the radiographer stared and my partner tried to stare from her semi upside down position and even with my untrained eye, I knew what I was looking at … our baby girl.

In the blink of an eye, ‘the bump’ had become my daughter and it all suddenly felt very real. No other experienced had filled me with so much joy and so much terror simultaneously.

The next stage of this incredible journey had begun. And as we stepped out of the hospital building into the sunlight I pinched myself … just to make sure.

PS: If any reader wants a beautiful Harry cushion at a discount price, please contact me via TED.