Sunday, September 07, 2008
I hear Babies, Cry, I watch them Grow
My baby boy, is 17 today.
When did that happen?
I remember finding out I was pregnant. That was scary. I went past the Glasgow Royal Infirmary yesterday where they took me to look for the Ovarian Cyst... which turned out to be Boy. I can remember that so clearly. It was a real casualty moment. Me on the trolley, drip in arm, ready to knock me out when they confirmed diagnosis. Trolley dash along the corridor to the correct department, me watching the ceiling lights flash past above my head. Si's anxious face along side me.
Me nine months later, inviting anyone who walked past the labour room to "come on in and stick your hand up .... cause everyone else has". I was high on excitement, diamorphine, gas and air and anything else that I could grab as nurses came and went off shift. The panic of the heart rate on the monitor slowing, the impossible attempt at the forcepts, the fitting of the Vacuum to my wee babies head, and finally a last surge as they finally got him out. "where are you taking him, where are you taking him" i groaned. "To wash him - he's covered in shit and blood". Lovely! I was also lying in a puddle of it too, and the poor wee junior nurse who I had screamed at all the way thru the process had to clean me up.
Afterwards, I lay in a ward downstairs with my new wee baby, and met lovely C A (Hi C A), in the bed across the way with her new wee baby M. The two of us sat there in amazement at our wonderful achievement of producing these babies. Both of whom were the most beautiful babies we had ever seen in our lifes.
We both had our wee sad moments but mostly giggled at the nurses attempts to make us exercise our very wobbly stomaches. Any kind of effort on that part just made us laugh so much we almost wee'd. We sat there as other mothers arrived, and were astounded at the age of them. We felt quite old and maternal, as these wee 16 year olds came in, stunned at the arrival of their wee bundles and not quite sure what they were doing with them.
The years from then on went so quickly. How can i have gotten here so quickly from sitting in that hospital ward to sitting here in my home, and that wee bundle is sitting at the PC chatting to his pals. All 6.3" of him. His sister is up stairs, removing her make up and getting ready for another week at school.
This week I found C A. We lost touch when Tool was born, the way you do. Juggling a family, weans and job make keeping in touch difficult, but now we have the internet. I found C A via her wee baby -who is now a stunning 17 brunette. I don't know what was in the water that year but it made gorgeous kids! That's a nice end to a birthday week - reunited with someone who lay across the room from me, and knew exactly what I was going thru - although if I remember rightly, CA managed to get her bundle out with no stitches!!
Hmmm...... Wish I'd missed that bit - the Doctor told me when I asked how many stitches I was getting "i'm doing one big stitch from the inside out, to stop anything getting in there ever again , no one ever deserves to have to go thru labour with you again!"
I hope he was joking!