Posted by That’s right. It finally happened – as predicted – on Mother’s Day. I really should have been a betting man. Providing we ignore all the predictions I got wrong. Word of warning – I’m typing this one-handed whilst holding a baby, so my grammar shall be worser than usual.
I guess I can give a bit more detail into how it happened (don’t worry, not too detailed). Basically, as I was desperately thinking of an excuse for why I hadn’t gotten Mrs OddFather a Mother’s Day present, she came downstairs to tell me she was experiencing reduced movement. We dropped the OddDaughter to my brother, and headed to the hospital.
The midwife saw us and confirmed everything was fine with the little one, but advised we wait to see a doctor anyway. Then came lots of other emergencies so we spent hours waiting around the waiting room with some quite annoying other mothers-to-be. We waited so long, in fact, that Mrs OddFather started having contractions. By the time we were finally seen, her waters broke and they informed us she was ready to pop. And within an hour he was here.
Introducing – The OddSon.
He has no idea the journey we’ve been through over the years to get to this moment. He has no idea how much love there is for him. He has no idea how I would give my life to stop any harm coming to him or his sister.
Don’t worry though… I’ll remind him every moment I get when he understands!
Both Mrs OddFather and the OddSon are doing well. And the OddDaughter is over the moon at being a big sister.
I can’t not mention how proud of Mrs OddFather I am. It was a quick, intense labour in an uncomfortable packed waiting room. The NHS truly is in a dire state. It probably didn’t help Mrs OddFather that I was keeping her company with my usual charming jokes. The conversations during her more intense contractions went something like this:
Me: “Knock, knock”
Mrs OddFather: “What?”
Me: “Knock, knock”
Mrs OddFather (rolling eyes): “Who’s there?”
Me: “Baby”
Mrs OddFather: “F*ck offf!!!!”
Tough crowd.
When the OddSon did arrive, he had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck… twice. I was part worried how blue he was, and part ready to send Papa Smurf a very angry note.
Wow. I’ve hit a brick wall. I can type no more. So I’m calling it a day. I’ll return with some posts documenting the first week or so at some point. But I’ll leave you with this disjointed post for now!