Your mother went into hospital yesterday morning about 10am. She got a bed (and room) just after 12 and by four o'clock in the afternoon, a gel had been used to try to encourage labour. You were being induced because of a combination of the gestational diabetes that your mum had (and controlled so well) and the fact that at 42, giving birth can be less than perfect.
We had messages from your nan (my mum) and friends sent well wishes. A second dose of gel about half eleven led to your mother's waters breaking at about 1.15am (I went home an hour before that) and she had intense contractions all night and did not sleep well. (I did.) Your mum had a hormone drip inserted about 2pm today and took an epidural at 3.15. When the midwife - Mikala - came to check on you abour 5.30, she was surprised to see the top of your head.
Your mum pushed hard for half an hour but you wouldn't come out. Mikala decided on an episiotomy and then there you were - purple, lifeless, with the umbilical cord wrapped twice around your neck. Fear dried up the happy tears that had begun to roll down my cheeks. Mikala clamped and cut the cord and unwrapped it. When she moved you, life kicked in and you wailed. It was so beautiful. I am crying those missing tears now, knowing you are safe and well.
You lay on your mother for 15 minutes while they delivered the placenta. Then I held you for half an hour while they sewed up your mum. She worried about feeding you. She worried generally. She was so happy to get you back from me. You were reluctant to feed at first but after half past eight you began to suck and your little jaw moving below your downy skin was such a relief to your mum. By half past nine you were upstairs with mum in the birth centre and I was on the way home, relegated to writing to you and missing you already, son.
