A special date

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My middle son is 18 today. Eighteen years ago I dropped off my three year old at a friend’s to stay the night, knowing that that was the night our second child was going to arrive. To keep the contractions coming and fill the time before going to the hospital, walking is often a good plan – I recall walking around the local hardware store, heavily pregnant with a smile on my face, and as Tai Chi Man and I were leaving we were wished a good night by one of the staff. Oh, it will be, we said, this baby is arriving tonight!

Not wanting to make the mistake of going to the hospital too early and being sent home again (which happened with ds1), we waited for a bit and then went in. I think the nurses thought it was still a bit early but they allocated us a room and left us alone. For a long time. Labour progressed quite nicely, I didn’t need any pain relief, there was an en suite bathroom which was very useful, and by the time the nurse came in to check on the progress I was almost ready to push that baby out!

They called the doctor and told me to hop up on the bed. Whoosh, out he came – the doctor arrived in time to do a post-birth check!

Two days later, we were out the door and I was carrying him around a supermarket in a sling so we could pick up groceries for the inlaws who arrived the day the baby did!

Our oldest wasn’t sure what to make of this new arrival, and at first he didn’t want to hold his little brother for a photo.

So my 8lbs 8oz baby is now 6 feet tall and such an entertaining character. We are so blessed to have all three of our wonderful sons – they have taught and are teaching me so much.

As a counterbalance to this anniversary, it is another anniversary today. My dad died a year ago, only five months after being diagnosed with lung cancer. Because of the time difference with the UK, we got the news on the evening of the 19th. So ds2’s birthday last year was partly celebration, partly grieving, and we were booking flights to go back for the funeral. I was so fortunate to be able to spend seven weeks staying with my parents in the spring of 2012, trying to help where needed and just soaking up some memories. When you say goodbye to someone, you usually have the expectation that you will see them again. Not so that parting from my dad last spring – I knew that was probably the last time I would see him and I was right.

I would love to be with my mum and sister this evening, giving them a big hug, but will have to make do with a phone call.

Going to buy myself some flowers today 🙂

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