Happy Birthday DS1
My boy is 11 – 22nd Dec, officially at 10.12pm – but he assures me it’s ok to have presents in the morning!
My boy is wonderful, I know we all love our children but he really is! He has a depth of maturity that still shocks me, yet he has a playful sense of humour and is a happy, sunny boy.
He is clever (cleverer than me most of the time), he questions things that I just take for granted and seems to have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Yet he isn’t superior or smug, he is gentle and self effacing. It was he who prompted my post about the shadow on the moon – a question he asked at age 5.
He likes reading, drawing, building amazing things from LEGO, making paper aeroplanes (often balancing them on one side to ensure they fly how he wants), playing DS/PS3/Wii games, watching The Simpsons, comedy in general and CHOCOLATE!
He is also a complete pedant, which I just adore.
I did good with that boy *beams with pride*
His life didn’t start smoothly, the birth ‘went wrong’, after finding out late that I had Gestational Diabetes they decided to induce me on my due date. I clearly wasn’t ready to give birth and despite them trying 3 times to induce me Monday, 3 more times Tuesday and a membrane sweep first thing Wednesday, there was still no action! I was 3 cm dilated by Monday night and pretty much stayed there.
Wednesday ended for me as he was placed in my arms and the last thing I remember is someone shouting “She’s 80 over 50″
I didn’t see my son again until the Friday afternoon, Christmas Eve.
I’d lost so much blood that I couldn’t sit up without passing out. For my own reasons I refused a blood transfusion. Because of the diabetes DS1 had been taken straight down to SCBU, then because I was ill they kept him down there.
I did try and get down there once (2 floors away, might as well have been on Mars) but I passed out.
I can remember laying on the ward, the only ‘mother’ there who didn’t have a baby. I felt so confused. So alone. It was like I was being punished. Until on the Friday afternoon a nurse breezed in and said jokingly “oh haven’t you got a baby?” and I said “I don’t know.”
She was horrified that I hadn’t been taken to see him, she was horrified that no one had given me a photo of him.
When my husband (who had been down to see the baby every day) showed up, she was with him, with a photo and a wheel chair and I finally got taken to see him. Sitting upright that long was a struggle, but it was worth it.
He looked a bit of a fraud in SCBU though – at 8lb13 he looked big enough to eat the other babies!
I was terrified that the separation would affect how I felt about him. Or how he felt about me. But it didn’t. I love him so much, I’m so proud of who he is and I’m so proud of who he’ll become.