The baby came through OK.
Birth took from 11AM induction last Sunday to final delivery by ventouse (with one cut) at 7.58AM on Monday, at the Jessop wing of the Hallamshire Hospital in Sheffield (which is fantastic). Pain relief was gas and air, one shot of diamorphine, arnica (homeopathic remedy). We were back home 7PM on the Monday.
Baby was an eight pound boy, named Malachi. He’s in fine form, and was breastfeeding happily within an hour of birth. My wife is doing fine, and I love her with all my heart and I am massively proud of her. Our three year old, Felix, loves his new baby brother and just wants to cuddle him and coo over him, as we do. Malachi looks a lot like a sixty year old east end gangster, all serious grimaces and rolls of skin. He snores too.
During the birth I was naturally mainly focused on my wife, but when I felt the need, I mentally called out for the help of ancestors. When I went back to see them in the ward later on the Monday, I had a sudden vision of vast sets of ancestors arcing away into the sky above each of the cubicles where the new parents and babies were, with each set of ancestors having a vast party to celebrate the new arrivals.
I feel like I’m just coming up, all the time. My head and heart are twisting into new shapes to encompass this new life and this new love.
Thanks to everyone for all their love and support, it really made a difference.
paul