The Baby That Came! Part 3 - The After-Birth

 So usually with most stories of babies being born where the little one in question is healthy and the doctor's are happy with everyone that would be the end of it; pack them up and cart them off to make room for the next expectant mother. But this was no ordinary situation! It was 6:30am on a Monday morning and my phone alarm was going off to make me aware I had to get up for work. Except I wasn't in bed, I hadn't even been asleep! I was cradling my surprise newborn baby boy and realising that I had a few phone calls to make to our workplaces to explain what had been going on over the last 24 hours as well as letting my parents know and other close family members what had transpired. By the time mother and baby were cleaned up and we were given our own private room to acclimatise to the fact we now had a little one to care for it was getting close to the time I would be arriving at work, but after getting to the room we were then spoken to by a senior midwife about what would happen over the next couple of days; a social worker would come over to our house to make sure it was safe for a baby, (Thankfully I would have time to pack up all my infant-traps and ultra sharp knives I casually leave strewn around the house beforehand!) along with a huge shopping spree for all the things the little tyke could possibly need in the upcoming weeks. After all the intricate details of what would proceed over the next few days were laid out before us and I had the chance to pick my jaw up from off the floor I was technically 30 minutes late for work.

 Thankfully I work with my uncle at an electrical wholesaler so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone first, and sure enough after the obligatory 5 second silence from being told the news he came back with this remark:

"Well... that's definitely your best excuse for being late yet!"

 Suffice to say he was very happy for us all and he came to see the new addition after work the following day. Then it was on to my partner's work. This one I thought would prove to be a little more difficult to convince we knew nothing about her pregnancy as she had only been working there for two months so was still on her probation period. Thankfully due to the media coverage following the birth the managers saw that this was a legitimate case and they too were very happy for us... although they would have to confer with their legal department as to where we all stood with maternity pay as she hadn't been working there for that long. It was then on to the rest of the family. As my girlfriend's parent's were on site from early on I didn't have to worry about informing her side of the family and my uncle was happy to tell my grandmother what had happened, (I'd call her later that day anyway) so I was left with phone calls to my auntie, sister and my mother. (Who just so happened to be celebrating her 30th wedding anniversary to my dad on that day... "er, Happy Anniversary Mum! You'll never guess what I got you both for this milestone occasion... your first grandchild! Don't expect this every year...)

 As soon as all the calls were done I made my way back in to the maternity ward to my other half who wondered where the bloody hell I had gotten to but understood I had a lot of calls to make... with a lot of elongated silences to break once each person was told! It was then I held my son again which was much scarier than the first time as I didn't have all the health care professionals around me giving me instructions on how to support him, it was just me and baby. This may seem inconsequential in itself; I mean, a father holds his son, right? It happens for the first time thousands of times a day all over the world, but it's easy to have confidence when surrounded by people who know what they're doing... and this was the first time I was handling him with no-one overlooking me, and it felt... right. I've always thought of myself as a prospective father and kids have always been in my mind at some point, but WE HAD A PLAN DAMN IT! We were saving for a house! Then we would get a dog! (A pug specifically as we have both been brought up with big dogs in our families so thought something little might be a bit different and let's face it, they're not that far away from a baby.) And then kids... realistically that meant waiting another three to fours years and I would be pushing 40 but hey, better late than never, right? But here I was, 35 years old, no house, no pug, a baby and no clue as to what to do next. It was after this tender moment that a nurse popped in and suggested that I go home and get a few hours sleep while mother and baby rested as it had been a strenuous night for all. So I kissed Momma Bear and Baby Bear on the forehead and drove home in a haze to try and get some shut eye.

When I got home the house felt surprisingly empty and it was at that point I knew this was as quiet as my life would be for at least the next 18 years. I looked around the front room trying to picture where all the baby essentials would go as we have a ridiculously small house and items would need to be sold or scrapped in order to make space for all things needed. I floated upstairs and went in to what was our guest bedroom, trying to imagine this area turned in to a nursery with a cot and pirate regalia hanging off the walls, (OH YES, HE WAS GOING TO HAVE A PIRATE ROOM!!) and then I meandered in to bed to try and block out all the racing thoughts about what happens next before exhaustion crept up on me and I fell asleep. I slept for about 3 hours, a deep sleep; no thoughts, no dreams, and I must admit when I woke up I had a millisecond of doubt as to whether the events of the night before actually happened, but with my beloved not lying next to me I knew it was all very real. With that thought at the forefront of my mind I proceeded to go in to the bathroom to clean my teeth and have a shower before heading back to the hospital to see my new family.

 Just as I got in to the shower and the steam started to push the sleepiness out of my essence the true weight of what had happened hit me... like a truck. For the past 12 hours I had been more concerned about my partner's welfare, and then our baby's welfare and then telling everyone what had transpired that I had blocked out how I felt about the whole situation and I'm not ashamed to say that I cried. Not at the loss of my freedom to do what I want when I want, (well... when the other half allowed it!) or from the shock of becoming a father overnight, but for the first time in a long time I had no idea what to do. I pride myself on being able to take the initiative when everyone around me is free falling in a crisis. At times when a difficult decision has to be made I have no problem with stepping up if no-one else can or will, and generally speaking up until this point I had been pretty successful, but I was in deep; No time for research in to the matter, no chance to prepare financially for the little one and all the things he would need and more importantly what I would like to provide for him, not even an idea on the next step let alone 3 or 4 steps down the road. I had no plan, no strategy, no clue, and that scared the hell out of me. I felt completely lost, and I knew I had two people in the hospital relying on me to make some big decisions in their absence to make all our lives easier and I didn't know what to do. It was at this point that I made an accord with myself: we would take it one day at a time. When a problem arises, we would deal with it and move on and as much as I hate to improvise off the cuff I accepted there and then that with a child that's the only way it would be. So after I gathered myself and cleaned up I proceeded to get dressed and head back to the hospital determined to do what I could to ease us in to parenthood with as little difficulty as possible.

 (Ultimately how I felt was a moot point compared to what my partner had been through in the last 24 hours. However lost I felt was minuscule compared to how she must have felt. She would later confess to me that she felt that she had let me down, but I could never be upset with her over something like this. To feel like you can't even trust your own body and to give birth without having any of the classic symptoms of being pregnant is something I would never be able to relate to, and I had the advantage of going home when the midwives kicked me out for the night so all the new mums and babies could rest but for her it was unrelenting. I had quiet times to try and ingest all the information thrown at us throughout the days in hospital, either when driving around arranging things for their eventual homecoming or going home for the night to sleep but she had no respite from it at all. I know she had weak moments in that hospital when she felt all alone late at night, but she has proved to me and everyone we know then and ever since how strong a woman she can be... and I love her for that.)

 I'd like to say that this moment of emotional weakness was the last time I'd lose it for no apparent reason, but the truth is I hardly lasted an hour. As I walked back in to the room where Mama and baby were I was greeted by a lady selling photos she had taken of our little mite while I was at home and I had conveniently turned up at just the right moment to see the results! So, after flicking through a few of the pictures she had taken and allowing us one extra photo to be taken of Father cradling Son it was time to deliver the knockout blow... the video montage with music for ultimate emotional reaction! Suffice to say after a sensitive 24 hours this broke me completely and I became that gullible blubbering wreck who orders the deluxe package who she no doubt had a good laugh about with the other reps around the water cooler later that day... and I'm fine with that. (For reasons I will go in to later on for fear of repeating myself too much.) This wouldn't be the only picture we would have taken of ourselves today either. As it so happens Jacob was born not only on St George's day, (the patron saint of England) but also on the same day as Prince William's third child which meant that the press officer of the hospital was going around and snapping all the happy couples and their newborns which in turn popped our picture up on the lunchtime bulletin of one of the national news programs! (This lead to my biological father who I hadn't seen for years recognising us on TV and since then we're now building on this foundation so he has a healthy relationship with his grandson.) But that wasn't all that transpired with the media thanks to an innocent Facebook post.

 Now, as stated previously myself and my good lady are enthusiasts of a little coastal town called Weston Super Mare; we both have fond memories as children visiting the local area, there are lot's of arcades around, (I am a gamer at heart after all!) and with it being just over an hour away it's easy enough to get to whenever we want a change of scenery so both myself and the other half are members of a Facebook group called Weston Super Mare - Then And Now, where people who either live in and around the area or lovers of the resort can share pictures from the past or more recent times along with having a handy place to keep an eye on special events which take place throughout the year. Much like any Facebook group there are people who use it to spread a bit of cheer throughout the community and those who see it as a grandstand to moan about whatever topic was currently en vogue so I thought it would be nice to mention the little trip to our favourite place along with what followed over the next 12 hours and the post BLEW UP. We had hundreds of likes and many many words of congratulations from everyone but more interestingly we had a private message from a producer working for the BBC Radio Bristol morning program who wanted to do an interview with me live on air with the host! This lead on to a little media storm over the next 48 hours which saw myself interviewed by BBC Radio Bristol, BBC Radio Somerset, BBC Radio Hereford & Worcester, a news piece on the main BBC website about us along with other online articles featuring in The Metro and Daily Mail national papers. And it didn't end there, when Mother and baby came out of hospital she was also interviewed by BBC Radio Hereford & Worcester as a follow up story and we also had a TV reporter and cameraman over to our house to feature in the lunchtime and evening regional news program for that day as the "and finally" feel good article. My considerate other also did an interview with one of those trashy women's magazines who decided to focus on the fact we ate at a Nandos the evening before rather than us not knowing we were expecting but it's a lesson we all learnt on that one, but we did get a little bit of money from the article so it wasn't a complete loss and in retrospect it's something amusing we can show the little one when he's older.

 That's a lot of crazy things happening to us over a very short period of time and some people thought it might be a bit overwhelming with everything else going on in our lives but we had both decided we would grab these opportunities with both hands for one simple reason: Most people these days can have pictures of their first scan kept for prosperity's sake, or have baby bump pictures to reflect back on as the day of birth dawns ever closer but we had none of that. No scan pictures, no baby bump pictures, no baby shower. So what better way to commemorate the birth of our surprise son than with a load of newspaper articles, radio interviews and TV segments? Not everyone can claim that for their firstborn so I like to think it makes up for all the things we did miss in those 9 months which other people get to enjoy at least in a little way.

** If you're interested in seeing any/all of the media you can watch the compilation here. All the articles/interviews I managed to find online or was gifted by the producers are here with the relative timestamps if there's certain things you'd like to see/hear over others. It is also a private video on my Youtube channel which you are free to share if you think anyone else would like to see it but I won't be openly advertising it with a general release to my subscribers. **

 As it stood, my boy decided to do a little poop on his way out of the womb, (a common occurrence I'm told!) and because of this he picked up a little infection; his white cells weren't at the capacity that they should have been which meant Momma and Baby were kept in hospital for 5 days to make sure he was well enough to eventually let him out in to the big wide world. This as it turned out was a blessing in disguise as I had a house to sort out for when they got home along with a lot of items to buy and I didn't have a clue where to start! Now I am a firm believer in retail therapy, (everyone feels better when they buy themselves something new!) but where should I even begin? Thankfully my partner's parent's had clubbed together and bought us a car seat as I didn't realise you couldn't even leave the hospital without one, although it makes sense in retrospect. I mean, how else are you going to get the little one home, in the glove box? They also shelled out a considerable amount of money on a fancy branded pram which converted in to a pushchair for when he was older which was a very generous gift, essentially taking out the hassle and monetary burden such a purchase can be when buying for your first... when you hardly have any spare cash flow... and you didn't even know you were expecting. But between friends and family we were blessed to receive all the essentials we would need for the first few weeks of parenting. This didn't stop me going to Mothercare with my partner's mother to get any small items not thought about until a couple of days after the birth when we knew what we were expecting from others. (The last thing we needed or could afford was duplicates!) So I walked in to the shop credit card in hand and an hour or so later with a very helpful lady's assistance (are they on commission?) I managed to spend over £500 on things I'd been told we'd need sooner or later. Sure enough all the items were used eventually and it was money well spent... although it turned out not to be the largest purchase we made in the first 2 weeks of parenting.

All the bases had been covered. No basics were we left wanting, but that's not to say all conveniences were accounted for! There was one glaring issue we could live without initially but would have to be confronted sooner rather than later and that was on transport, or more specifically transport which could cope with a baby and all the relative accessories which came along with them. You see, my partner and I only had 2 small cars between us; I'm talking 3 door hatchbacks which technically had back seats to them but unless you were a legless midget there was no practical use for the area behind the driver and that's without even thinking of where a pram was going to go, the changing bag and any other necessities we may have needed on any given excursion or day out! And did I mention we had a holiday booked down in Cornwall from before he was born which we were planning on still going to even though he would only be 10 weeks old at the time?! Yeah... So, as you can appreciate one of us had to upgrade our car too which my other half was more than happy to do. It made sense really, she was the one who would be carting them both around for the year she would have off with him before going back to work after her maternity leave ended, so in the two weeks after we all came home from hospital we had also been doing research in to an appropriate vehicle and bought a car!

This all happened within the paternity leave I had been given. It all had to be done in that time as I wanted returning to work for myself to be as hassle free as possible. I needed to know that my little family had everything needed to get about day to day so we could then concentrate on growing in to our new roles together without any unnecessary distractions hitting us on some idle Tuesday in the future.

I'm very happy to say that since all this has happened we have all had a relatively carefree 15 months together. Jacob is a very happy baby and now that he is older and getting more interactive with every passing day there is never a dull moment, although at times a bit more "quiet time" for us parents wouldn't go amiss! But taking it in to consideration all the things that have happened I don't think I'd change the way we were gifted our baby boy. Although there were milestones we never had through the pregnancy we also never had any of the grief of overthinking the situation when you have 9 months to think about what's inevitably going to happen, and since my little breakdown in the shower we have been living day to day; overcoming obstacles as they arise and generally it works for us. If I can take anything away from all of this it's to live each day as it comes and although it's good to prepare for any situation sometimes you just need to roll with the punches and with a little luck on your side everything should fall the way it should if only you have a little faith in yourself.

So there you have it! The story of how I became a surprise dad in three relatively long blog posts spanned over virtually 12 months. Free time is an issue for me these days so I hope you can forgive me for uneven uploading to my Youtube channel or for how infrequent my blogs have been but this three parter is leading up to a special video I plan on releasing around the time of his Christening at the start of September, (another thing which has unexpectedly taken far longer than we thought it would to arrange!) so keep a look out for that with probably an unabridged version of the script appearing on here too. Ultimately though these three entries and the upcoming video is all for Jacob. It's something that I hope he will look back on when he's older, (much, much older for this blog!) and see exactly how his old man felt in a frank retelling of the story he would have been overloaded with when growing up and ultimately I hope he can take heart in the fact that his parents may have ignored him for the first 9 months of his life but he has been at the forefront of our thoughts and actions ever since.

It's all for you, Son.

I hope to be more frequent going in to the future due to a change of priorities with my free time coming up after the celebration which I am planning on divulging more about on my Youtube channel soon so look out for that if you're interested. But until the next time thank you once again for taking the time to read this and hopefully I'll speak to you again soon.

 Scott.

The Baby That Came! Part 2 - The Redaction Of Contractions

They say you can never be truly ready to have a baby and I definitely agree with that. The thing is, you can be partially ready for a baby, be that mentally, physically or financially. As far as those 3 aspects are concerned we were not. Thankfully this wasn't something which hit me initially in those seconds, minutes or even hours after the nurse dropped the bombshell of our incoming parenthood. Those 3 seconds from being told to my partner being whisked off to the birthing suite was, (unbeknownst to me at the time) the quietest and most serene moments I would have to myself for the foreseeable future. My brain had farted. I was drawing a blank. For that brief time I had no idea what the hell was going on. Thankfully the well trained staff around us made the the next couple of hours as autonomous as possible for us both, it was just a case of going through the motions and as far as my part was concerned being the hand to be squeezed in between the contractions which up until this point had been quite bearable... or so I'm told.

It's at this point I'd like to make you aware dear reader that the two "highlights" I'm about to mention are, (I'm sure) a couple of the many features experienced in between being told we were going to be parents to the birth of our son six and three quarters of an hour later but due to the circumstances everything else was a bit of a blur; I was well and truly in auto-pilot mode throughout this time but I will never forget these two scenarios that cropped up:

The first "highlight" of the labor period is one that although the situation was very apparent it never sunk in until this point and it fell like an anvil dropping. A happy anvil, but an anvil none the less! Now I'm one of these people who doesn't really believe something until there is proof to back it up and it's fair to say that it didn't matter how much all these professionals kept telling me and my partner we were having a baby I still had an air of cynicism about the whole situation. YES, I know that her water broke in the A&E department and YES, all the issues my partner had had over the last couple of days were pointing to her being heavily pregnant but what it took to finally sink in was the sound of Baby's heartbeat. Things were moving along and they wanted to keep an eye on Mother and Baby's vitals to make sure there were no issues popping up as the birthing process advanced; after all 2 hours ago we didn't even know we were expecting; and I remember this big black elasticated band being put around my partner's belly and then the midwife plugging this little plug in to the monitor behind her and then BAM! There it was. He was here. It was real. It felt like in that moment my heart skipped a beat and transferred through my hand holding my girl's hand, down the cables and in to him and there was no denying it any more. That juncture was the happiest and scariest I've ever felt all at once in my entire life and I think under different circumstances those two feelings might have come on separate occasions... but we were on the clock so we just got it all over with in one foul swoop.

As has been well documented since the dawn of man when you enter the labor period of the miracle of birth and mother and baby appear to be healthy you enter a bit of a waiting game. Baby is quite happy where he or she is residing as it's all they've ever known and Momma can't push until she's well dilated so we are basically hanging around until my partner's lady bits warm up to the fact she is going to push the equivalent of a melon out her being in the near future... so you can understand why it takes a while to come around to the idea to be honest. And it was after a couple of hours of waiting with the occasional crushing of my hand during contractions, (around 2AM) that I mentioned to the other half that it might be a good idea to let someone else know we were about to become a family, and seeing as she was doing all the hard work and I was there for moral support and to be the casual squeeze toy I thought it was time for me to get in touch with her parents first. Initially she wasn't too warm on the idea as she thought that her Mother would be disappointed, or even angry at her for not knowing of her situation but she soon resigned herself to the fact that there's only so long you can hide a baby in the family as they can be quite loud and very time consuming at the best of times, and with that I went outside to make the phone call. Again, this was all within the time where the acute details are blurred but the conversation went something like this:

                                                     (30 seconds of the phone ringing)

Partner's Sleepy Mother (PSM): Hello?
Me: Hi PSM it's Scott.
PSM: Hi Scott. Is there a problem?
Me: Well... er... are you sitting down?
PSM: I'm in bed Scott...
Me: Yeah... well... you see... it's your daughter... we're in hospital... and she's going to have a baby.

                    (Uncomfortable silence... it felt like hours but I'm sure it was seconds)

PSM: WHAT?!
Me: Yeah... there appears to be no complications but we could do with you coming up as soon as you can.
PSM: We'll be there within an hour.

In retrospect I'm sure there are better ways to tell someone they were going to become a first time grandparent but time was of the essence and true to their word they were with us before 3AM. I'll never forget their faces as I met them in the foyer of the hospital because between them they managed to convey all the feelings I had at that present time: my partner's mother had a look of abject worry and broken sleep wrought in to her face in contrast to my partner's father who had such a beaming smile there was no wiping it off... regardless of the ungodly time we had dragged him out at.

Time was ticking on, things were expanding at a steady rate and even though my partner had been squeezing my hand for almost 5 hours not once had her grip got any weaker! That's when it happened, things had gotten to a point where she was allowed to push and for the next 45 minutes that's what she did and that's when we had a complication. Describing a matter of life or death for your unborn baby as a "complication" seems a slight underestimate to the stakes at hand but again in retrospect I'm sure the well qualified doctors and nurses see this on a much more regular basis than we do, but when you're made aware of any issue when it has been plain sailing up until that point it's the only thing you tend to focus on. The issue with the birthing process was, (and I was unaware of this) that the ladies of the Human race have a U-bend in them, (as it was described to me) and our baby with every push from Momma was moving 2 steps forward then 2 steps back again in a sort of rocking motion due to the size of Baby and the size of the U-bend, and after a long time of trying to see if this would eventually occur naturally the baby was getting very tired and distressed, to the point of it's heartbeat dropping with every go, and with every try my girlfriend was also getting more tired so each added push was weaker. (Her grip alas was still stronger than ever!) So at this point a decision had to be made; they could take her to the operating theatre for a cesarean or they could attempt a forceps delivery. My girl was adamant she was not going to have a cesarean so as long as the doctors thought they could help the baby with forceps, (think of them as brutally over sized barbecue tongs without the added use of tossing salad on rainy days) we would try and avoid any unnecessary surgical procedures for as long possible, hopefully altogether. As it stood this isn't something they could do in the standard delivery suite so it was at this point my partner's sleepy mother had to leave our side and join my partner's joyful father back in the waiting room, where as I was heading to a locker room to get cleaned up and put on some scrubs before going to join the assembled midwives, doctors and nurses who were looking at getting baby out as soon and stress-free as possible. When I exited the locker room a nurse was waiting to show me where I would be going to join the party when she suddenly declared to me, "Have you got your phone?" For some reason this question really confused me, why did she expect me to have my phone on me? I know the youth of today tend to have their portable communication devices surgically attached to the palms of their hands these days but I had no idea what the etiquette in this circumstance was! I figured if I couldn't go in to what I believed to be a sterilized room in my everyday togs, (albeit well worn... it had been almost 24 hours since we left to go to Weston) a plastic device dropped on the floor, kept in a sweaty pocket, spat on through banter on phone calls and with smudgy fingerprints all over it wouldn't be welcome in such an environment but alas I was wrong. "To take pictures of the birth with of course!" was the reply.

Well OK then.

I'd been with my partner for almost 10 years at this point so naturally the talk of children had come up in casual conversation on more than one occasion, especially when talking about the actual birthing process, and one thing was made vehemently clear from an early point: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES MUST YOU EVER, EVER GO BELOW THE WAIST AND SEE THE CAR CRASH THAT WOULD BE MY PARTNERS LADY BITS DURING THE MIRACLE OF BIRTH. To be honest with you I don't think seeing what I can only think of as a reenactment of the scene with John Hurt in Alien but about 18 inches further down the body would have fazed me but even if I wanted to take a peek down there there was no way I'd be able to get a look in with all the people buzzing around the lower half of her body so I played the good partner role and held her hand while the necessary procedures were carried out. Because of the lateness of the complication my dear one had gone past the point of being able to have an epidural but "thankfully" she could have an anesthetic injection in to the lower back which would numb the area, (albeit not as effectively) as she now had to have in order to use the forceps effectively a "nip" down below to make the entry of the tools easier. All I can remember of this part was my already distressed partner from being rushed in to an operating theatre screaming in pain whilst the "nip" was applied... and after that the birthing tongs were brought in to play. I honestly thought at this point, (with the whole cutting of the lady bits and the pain that seemed to cause) that the worst was over for my lady; a bit more pushing with a bit of leverage from the forceps and Bob's you uncle - instant baby birth! But I couldn't have been more wrong. From what I can gather at my limited, (thankfully) angle is that the reason the cuts were made in my sweetheart's downstairs department was so the forceps could fit in beside the baby's head and thus "help" the little mite pass through the birthing canal and join us in the operating theatre which in itself was still a tight fit... an extremely painful tight fit as it happens, and all I could do for my girl is allow her to squeeze my hand until my bones were turned to dust - it was the least I could let her do.

And then it happened. One over-dramatic pull from the doctor later and this purplely-blue blob was plopped on to my girlfriend's stomach. Now, my only experience of childbirth up until this point has been what has been shown to me in films or TV programs, (I've purposely not watched programs like One Born Every Minute... it's just not how I like to spend my free time and I can't for the life of me see why anyone would want to subject themselves to such a program if they haven't given birth or have been the significant other standing at their side... it's a horror show at the best if times!) so when baby popped out I was expecting cries and wiggling and well... signs of life. The doctors and midwives had just plonked the little critter down on my lady's stomach, gave him a quick rub on his back and left him to it! This was when it felt like I experienced the longest second of my life: I stood there staring while all the professionals around us were congratulating us on having a healthy baby boy but I was just waiting for a little movement... a little cry... a little reassurance... and it mustn't have been more than a second or so as I'd like to think if there were any real issues they would have been addressed immediately, then he wailed like a banshee and I felt a huge release of stress swathe over my entire being. Everything was going to be alright. As this happened and he was put on to my love's chest she turned to me with tears in her eyes and said, "I want to call him Jacob." Considering the amount of physical and mental punishment she had been under for the last 6 hours I didn't think I was in a position to argue with her! Jacob, (not Jake) it was.

After the initial moment we were allowed together there were still things that needed to be sorted out with Momma, there were stitches to be had and seeing as the doctors were already down there the placenta was to be removed now rather than letting it pass naturally so Jacob was taken over to the side to be weighed and cleaned up a little and I was ushered in the same direction. Sadly because of the immediacy of the birth I couldn't cut the umbilical cord after he was born but there was a significant length left which had to be trimmed down so I was allowed to do that and then the clamp was applied to seal it off. I say clamp... it looked more like the sort of clip you buy from the supermarket to seal up a partly eaten packet of crisps but if it does the job who am I to argue! After that he was wrapped up in a white towel and handed to me for a moment, the first time I was able to hold my son, and I gave him a little rub on his chest with my finger and welcomed him to this world while a nurse took a few pictures on my phone. Then a beautiful thing happened which I'll never forget; Jacob moved his hand up out of the towel he was wrapped in and clasped my finger so tightly and I experienced an intense wave of love I'd never felt before wash over my body and I knew in that second we would all be fine; from the suddenness of this bombshell being dropped of becoming parents after having no idea 7 hours previously to not having anything at all for our little miracle, (several epic shopping trips over the next 5 days followed) I knew everything would work out great...  and then my phone alarm went off telling me I had to get up to go to work.

That lead to some interesting phone calls to several people over the next couple of hours but I'll cover that in the next, (and final) part along with what became a little media sensation for us after an innocent Facebook post!

Thanks once again for taking the time to read this and hopefully I'll see you next time!

Scott.


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The Baby That Came! Part 1 - The Build Up

Hello! Long time no speak! Now don't get on to me... I KNOW I haven't posted anything for a while, (over 4 months now!) but I have the best excuse ever. I've become a daddy. A surprise daddy. And as the little bundle of joy turned up unexpectedly we had zero provisions to cope with his arrival and zero room to house all of the new provisions we needed to look after him properly. The past quarter of a year, (WOW, it doesn't feel that long but typing it really does put the time frame in to perspective) we have been buying cars, renewing rental agreements to make sure we have a stable environment to bring the little fella up in, dismantling and selling furniture, buying and building other furniture, sorting out and setting up bank accounts and ISAs, chasing government tax relief and benefit payments, (I can see why people see having babies as a career choice as the money doled out is ridiculous) making sure everyone who wants to meet the new arrival gets the chance in what little time we have when I'm not working and we even managed to fit in a Summer holiday! (Booked and paid for pre-baby so we had no choice but to slog the 10 week old along with us. Thankfully it was a UK based holiday.)  Things have now started to slow down for us all and I can finally start to put my thoughts to paper, (or PC) and I think due to the fact we have no pre-birth photos, scans or baby shower memories etc. getting this all down while it is still relatively fresh in my mind is a must. I feel I owe it to both ourselves as parents and maybe even to our son who might come across this at some point in the future to record my view of the whole situation to be able to reflect upon... and maybe even laugh a little at a later point.

O.K.

So I think this is going to be a big entry in it's entirety. There is a LOT of ground to cover both before and after the birth and although I could give you a 5000 word blow by blow account of the experience and the aftermath of the event I feel breaking it down in to two, (maybe three) moderately sized chunks will work out better for everyone.

So here goes:

The last 4 months have been the craziest, happiest, stressful and emotional months of my life... and I wouldn't change them for the world!

Just in case you aren't subscribed to my Youtube channel, (although you really should be as it's AWESOME) and you're not aware of my circumstances I have become the proud Father of a bouncing baby boy. Now that in itself is kind of unremarkable I admit; I understand thousands of babies are born every day... but here's the twist in my little story: neither myself nor my partner knew she was pregnant. (I used to refer to my significant other as my girlfriend but nowadays with us being parents it doesn't seem permanent enough a title!) And once again, you're probably saying "C'mon Padge, lots of people don't find out they're pregnant straight away and sometimes not until they're just about to drop!" and once again you'd be right. But rather than months, weeks or even days warning we had from diagnosis to birth the grand total of 6 hours notice.

6 hours.

I thought that warranted repeating! I might even put it in bold AND italics for effect...

So as you might expect there is a story leading up to this moment of blind panic and heartfelt joy, and like all good stories in my life they start at my partner and I's favourite place in the world: Weston-Super-Mare.

Well, if we're going to get technical it actually started 2 days before on the Friday. (20th April 2018 if you're wondering!) After a hard weeks slog selling plugs and sockets to the masses I arrived home from work and I'm greeted to a rather flustered girlfriend who has been suffering from severe stomach cramps for the entirety of the day. Now, this in itself is usually a worrying symptom for anyone to have out of the blue, but this ailment was occurring at the end of a contraceptive cycle where bleeding and cramps kick in as the other half's girly bits whirl back in to action after being left dormant for the past 3 months since the last hormone injection. (Yes, you're correct in what you're thinking. She did have contraceptive injections throughout her pregnancy so generally you'd think there would be nothing to worry about... Did you know the injection is only 92% effective? That percentage has been seared in to my brain since I found that out!) While we're learning things here's another thing you probably don't know about me: I LOVE walking, (my partner not so much but she tolerates it/me) and after a full week finished at work coupled with the fact it had been an incredibly warm and sunny day we decided to go on one of our favourite routes down to and along the river, in to the basin and around the docks where narrow boats are moored, then back through a large park area where there are miniature railway tracks installed for enthusiasts to bring their engines down and tow carriages full of children along on bank holiday weekends. (Sounds quaint, doesn't it?!) Well, this journey on a good day would take us about an hour at a reasonable pace along with the occasional stop to grab a Pokemon, (don't ask) but on this particular attempt we had to give up after staggering about a third of the distance after an hour and a half. You probably have me pictured as some sort of brute wielding a whip over my harangued girlfriend who's in agony forcing her to frog march against her will but frequently, (every 200 meters or so... whenever she creased over in pain) I kept asking her if she wanted to turn around, but due to her strong will, (or stubbornness) and her high pain threshold, (she played women's rugby) she was adamant she wanted to carry on. We eventually returned home and she went for a long hot shower, (we have no bath) which seemed to ease the pain for her to a more tolerable level.

Saturday, (21st April) was a fairly uneventful day with the other half admitting that the pain had eased a little and she was on the downward slope to her lady bits getting back in order, so with that in mind we went on and did what we usually do most Saturdays, visit my Nan with fish and chips for a catch up and hope to get back home before 6pm for a evening of movies and nibbles. At this point I should probably make you aware that April for myself personally is a very busy and expensive month with Birthdays of my Mum, Nan, girlfriend, girlfriends Dad and Brother in law to allocate money and/or attention to, (and now my Son, thanks kid.) and that Sunday, (22nd April) was our only free day in the entirety of the month to go to our favourite place in the world, Weston-Super-Mare. Being the kind and considerate boyfriend that I am, (well, most of the time anyway) it was at this point in the weekend in between whichever movies we were watching where I turned to my significant other and asked her if she still wanted to go to our home away from home. "YES." she said rather abruptly. She said it with such vigor while looking me straight in the eyes that I knew she wouldn't take no for an answer and I've learnt over the many years of being with her that when she speaks about anything with such conviction it is pointless arguing with her. So we got up early and preceded to drive to Brean Down for a slow walk along the beach before heading to the local arcades and then along the coast to Weston where we hit the shops, more arcades and the pier, (one big arcade/amusement centre) a walk along the promenade to Birnbeck, (the old pier which has fallen in to disrepair) and then finishing off with a cheeky Nandos before the drive home. Over the course of the day we walked just over 7 miles, and all with the girlfriend's lady bits giving her as much hassle as they had given her on the Friday before.

The drive home was pretty uneventful until we were about 20 minutes away from where we live. It was at this point where the stomach pains were getting intense, to the point where she couldn't even sit in the passenger seat comfortably any more, so the missus spent the last 15 miles in various positions any contortionist would have been proud of. As soon as we pulled up to the house the other half leapt out of the car like a lethargic gazelle and went straight inside to start the only thing which had eased her back ache up to this point, a hot shower, whereas I retired to the relative safety of my PC to catch up on the day's events and watch the odd video on YouTube. It was about 30 minutes later while watching a video that I could hear this moan emanating from our kitchen over the sound coming from my closed back headphones... which means she was loud. After dropping tools instantly, (well, carefully placing them down anyway... they were expensive!) I went to the kitchen to see my significant other, hands clasped to the kitchen worktop with a vice-like grip bent over in pain. I asked her if she had had a hot shower yet to which she replied yes and it had not helped in the slightest. This got me worried. It was 10:30pm on a Sunday night and the missus who can usually take being ran in to by women twice her size and triple her weight, (it' a rugby thing) was creased up and close to sobbing, something I've never seen her do in the nine and a half years we had been together. Naturally I wanted to race her to accident and emergency to get her seen to within the next 6 hours, (if we're lucky... good old NHS) but the girlfriend was insistent on phoning 111 to see what the medically unqualified operator had to say, (ahem) and after 10 minutes of wincing in pain and going through the set questionnaire, (the first question being "are you pregnant" to which the answer was "I don't think so as I'm on the contraceptive injection") we were instructed to go to our nearest A&E department. After a fraught drive to hospital and (eventually) finding a parking space in the poor excuse of an area they like to call a car park even in off-peak hours, (another rant for another time) I helped my girlfriend in to the hospital where we were processed quickly by the receptionist and then asked to find a seat among a sea of aches, pains, breaks, cuts and, (no doubt) communicable diseases. The problem now though was my significant other couldn't sit down and if the hospital was going to be typically British about their queuing system, (first come, first served) then we would have hours to wait before being seen by someone. It was here, sitting in the waiting room watching the occasional nurse coming to the front and calling someone's name while my better half is all knotted up inside and can't sit down, where the enormity of the situation started to dawn on me. We were both prone to being ill every so often, but apart from a couple of procedures we've both had since being together, (a lump removed from my neck and her tonsils removed) neither of us have been particularly ill to the point of hospitalization. That added to the fact my partner is adopted and knows nothing about her family medical history and the acceleration of her condition over the past couple of hours lead me to believe there was something seriously wrong, life threatening even. It was while I was caught within this whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that a nurse who hadn't reared her head at the front of the waiting room before made a bee line for my loved one and then proceeded to help her through the doors and in to a cubicle where a gaggle of nurses were waiting for her. They were all running around setting up drips and peeling back the crisp, clean and slightly over starched bed sheets before helping her get in to as much a horizontal position on the bed as she could muster.

The next moment I'll remember for the rest of my life. A slightly older nurse compared to the rest of the ladies whirling around my lady approached us and asked,

"So are you ready to have your baby?"

Our response, almost in unison was,

"What?"

All the sounds of the emergency room drained from my ears whilst I contemplated both the question being asked and the response I was going to give. Thankfully, (in one regard anyway) we were not given a lot of time to fully take in the moment, (or let the blind panic set in) as it was at this time the girlfriend's water broke and we were escorted to a birthing suite. She was DEFINITELY pregnant and she was DEFINITELY going to give birth!

I think that's a good place to leave this part, I'll pick it back up from here in the next few weeks detailing what I can remember of the birth itself, (a lot of it is a blur but I'll try to recall the less graphic details for next time) as well as the media sensation which our son turned out to be... but that will be for part 2.

Again, I am sorry about not tending to this blog for so long but to put a thought to paper in the context I want to hasn't been priority recently and although entries from here on in will be sporadic they shouldn't die off all together. See you in part 2.

Thanks once again for taking the time to read this and hopefully I'll see you next time!

Scott.


Check Out My Youtube Channel: www.YouTube.com/PalicoPadge