Instant Farmer

I have been watching it grow for weeks now. Watching the bare soil transform into a wonderful waving field of wheat. Armed with my rather alarming lack of agricultural nous, I initially thought that is was grass that was poking up through the soil and as I am currently engaged in battle with my own lawn, I kept a keener eye on the field than most probably did on the way to and from the train station. It was not until fairly recently that I noticed the grass was sprouting some rather un-grasslike heads and the field was looking more and more like a cereal box (minus the giant bowl and spoon in the foreground obviously). Wheat, of course...you spanner Thompson, of course its a field of wheat. Why would a farmer grow a field of grass when there are no cattle to be seen for miles? In my defence, I am not a farmer, have no real experience of how the countryside works and have never been witness to watching a field of crops (crops?) grow. Why, you might be wondering am I am rambling on about farming and fields of wheat? Well, as I have been watching the wheat grow from seemingly nothing into a magnificent looking field (seriously, I think it looks astonishing as all the plants sway lazily in unison in the breeze like a bunch of teenagers at an Indie gig - I'm odd I know...), I have been drawing comparisons with the growth of my own little baby and watching the bump grow steadily bigger.

The 36 week scan last weekend (incidentally, an honorable mention to The Coombe and Siobhan for weekend scanning - an excellent service) revealed that BabyT is weighing in at a remarkable 7lb 4oz already. Estimates are putting a delivery weight of circa 9lb so we are elated that the wee one is going to be a healthy size at birth. They will need to draw on all their tiny resources until the feeding process beds down (the usual weight-loss will occur perfectly naturally we are assured) so should be more than well-equipped enough to be able to handle it. We spent a great afternoon in the hospital and it is not too often we have been able to say that so for that we are absurdly thankful. We saw tiny feet and toes quickstepping through the womb, we saw tiny fingers playing a tiny imaginary piano, unbelievably we saw a fine mane of hair floating in the fluid like the most beautiful ocean coral, we saw the little ears that hear our words and songs (poor little ears says you...) and we saw the little eyes that will gaze on at us in wonderment and bewilderment as we (read "I") attempt to change the first nappy or succesfully administer the first feed. From my own personal opinion, the feeling of closeness this created between myself and the little one was exceptional. All the recent fears momentarily vanished and, even though the room was far from magical, I felt so touched during the scan I was desperately hoping that neither the midwife or Mrs T looked in my direction until both the lump that had decided to establish itself in my throat, and the water that was encircling my left eye had diminished. I have no idea how I am going to cope at the birth itself, hopefully no-one will be taking much notice of me and my inability to remain non-tearful, and nor should they be in all honesty. Who cares though? It'll all be worth it.

So as we roll towards week 37, my heart momentarily jumps when I see the phone ringing at work from home, the bag is packed and the booze has been suspended. It really could happen at any time now (please Lord, let it happen when I am at home and not tearing through town like a man possessed to get to the hospital) so the batphone is on constant standby. It may sound obvious, but an event such as this provides a level of perspective I have never previously imagined. Daily worries are dwarfed in comparison to the arrival of BabyT, life will stop, change and then continue in a completely new mould in one glorious day. As I see the wheat standing proud and tall clutching ever closer to the low rumbling clouds, I know that it's day of reckoning is almost upon it. One morning it will be there as I pass and when I pass again, it will be gone, destined for a new life, a new form and a new journey. Bring it on...