Birthday Boy!

Well the other man in my life has reached the ripe old age of 11 today. He was delighted to find, among his presents,- the Liverpool Champions League away strip - he's modelling the shirt in the photo - over the top of his clothes - what a wally! Bless!

It's difficult to believe that it's eleven years ago as I write this that I was laid on the operating table in theatre undergoing an elective caesarian.

I had a difficult and prolongued labour with Sarah three and a half years earlier which resulted in an emergency C section under epidural. This time I was hoping to go for a trial of labour. The obstetrician had said he would permit me to go to a certain date and if babe didn't arrive by that time I must have another caesar.

Friday 17th November 1995 came and with it a visit to the ante-natal clinic at Gloucester Royal Hospital to do all the prep work, bloods etc for my caesar on the Monday morning - no sign of baby arriving under his own steam.

However what none of us bargained for was the fact that the little imp had been creating his own veritable swimming pool in there and hence he was actually a transverse lie. No wonder in the few weeks leading up to then nobody could be quite sure which way he was laid - he'd been whizzing around for weeks with all that room and liquid to play in. More to the point no wonder my ribs were so incredibly sore at each side - at times he'd been laid across me stretching out for all he was worth. Even today, all this time on, my ribs are still tender if I press strongly where he was pushing.

By this time we'd passed the 39 week mark and the hospital, fearful of spontaneous labour decided I must stay in over the weekend up to his scheduled arrival on the Monday morning just in case he arrived under his own steam and trapped the cord killing himself and quite possibly me.

Serious stuff and more than a bit disappointing as it was DH's birthday on the 19th and I wasn't allowed out even for a quick meal down the local pub :o(

However Monday morning dawned bright and sunny and DH, my local midwife and I had a gentle stroll down to the labour ward for them to prep me up for his arrival.

Epidural in place and there he was a bouncing baby boy weighing in at 8lb 12ozs with a shock of red hair and a face covered in vernix - he certainly wasn't quite cooked enough to come out under his own direction.

When Sarah was born, Nigel secretly hoped all along for a boy - of course, once she was safely here especially after such a long labour, he was delighted that she was with us alive and well with all the right number of fingers, toes etc.

As I was awake for each delivery Nigel was able to watch their arrival and the moment he heard the surgeon announce that baby number 2 was a little boy his delight was absolutely electric - it was like one of those children's helium filled balloons bouncing to the ceiling.

My reaction was grateful tears and the thought 'Thank goodness he's got his boy I never have to go throught this again'

It took me precisely one week - yes just one week - before I thought 'Mmm another one might be nice'

And of course Louise came along fourteen and a half months later :o) to complete the family. All three of them out of the sunroof - I never got that natural delivery I hoped for.

Looking at the three of them now it's really hard to remember they were ever that young and that small.

Sarah, at fourteen and a half, has just started going out with her very first boyfriend - you can see them in a huddle over the computer - where has my first baby gone.

I suppose this is nothing in comparison to what my mother-in-law must have felt yesterday on realising her first baby had reached his 46th birthday.

The third photo shows the bag I made earlier now complete with handles all ready for wrapping and posting off to its secret santa recipient - hope she likes it.

Other than that I've done virtually no stitching this weekend - birthday shopping, rugby and a general feeling of total malaise have meant I've had little time and even less enthusiasm to pick up any fabric over the past few days. Coupled with the fact that my sewing table is piled about a foot high with fabric preventing me from getting anywhere near the machine means that I've only just returned to it this morning to put those handles on.

Monday is usually my day off and I get to play out with the girls at my quilting group - lovely but it does eat up most of my day before the kids return from school and the peace is shattered once more. However today Louise is complaining of feeling sick and stomach cramps so has stayed home with me. Hence no playing out but more time to put away all that fabric and crack on with more Christmas gifts.