This time next week I should have become a father for the second time.
What a journey it’s been - for Sarah, not me.
Fatherhood is a strange job really. You are there at the conception and these days they like you to be at the birth too, but what else do we actually do?
I still feel a tinge of guilt as I say my goodbyes and head off to work to play some records on the radio
During the past eight-and-a-bit months, my wife has steadily got bigger and bigger and life has become steadily more uncomfortable for her.
Without complaining, she trots off to the QA Hospital each Monday for specialist treatment for the pregnancy.
She is just amazing. My admiration for her is immense.
I work, so she also looks after our 18-month-old who, to be fair, is a dream. He’s such a good boy.
Sarah sorts out everything – and I mean everything.
Food, washing, cleaning and organising not only Freddie’s diary but mine too.
Being a traditional kind of bloke, I secretly love this.
She runs the house perfectly and I come along and mess up the cushions.
No matter how many times I change Freddie’s nappy or cook us a meal, it’s never enough.
I still feel a tinge of guilt as I say my goodbyes and head off to work to play some records on the radio.
And when it comes to our second birth, a C-section. I will be an imposter, wearing surgery scrubs and a mask, holding her hand as the surgeon brings our daughter into the world.
Could I not be the dad who delivers his own child in the seat of his car on the way to the hospital?
The dad who is so overwhelmed he names his daughter after his car – Astra?
Then again, have you seen a shelf that I’ve put up? Have you eaten a meal that I’ve cooked?
Maybe it’s a good idea that I just mop Sarah’s brow and make sure I do what I’m good at.
That is ensuring the music selection in the theatre is to her taste and that I’m simply there for her.
Then again, how much fun could I have putting inappropriate songs on that playlist?
Hmmm, maybe not!