I fully expected to be penning a week 41 post today: instead I am writing this with our four day old son sleeping peacefully on Misery Guts’ chest. That’s right: BB is officially a big sister after Little B graced us with his presence in the early hours of Thursday morning.
Just three days overdue compared to BB’s 14, his delivery couldn’t have been more different – or quick.
Instead of being anchored to a hospital bed on my back by an epidural, heart monitors, various drips and a catheter I delivered Little B on all fours in the tranquillity of a birthing pool on the 13th floor of the Royal Sussex Hospital with the bright lights of Brighton twinkling outside.
The midwife passed him to me under the water and he emerged calmly blinking up at me, less than two and a half hours after arriving at hospital apparently only 2cms dilated, and then we climbed out of the pool and snuggled down on bean bags on the floor.
After everything that’s happened – our two lost babies followed by the most anxious of pregnancies – I cannot describe the sheer relief. This will be my last ‘pregnancy after multiple miscarriage’ post – it’s time to look forward, not back – although I will keep the pages live in case they help anyone else.
There’s only one thing left to say: never stop hoping. The baby that this time last year I thought I may never be able to have has finally arrived. And he’s absolutely perfect.