To think I was in full blown labour this time last year. Cheese and [egg fried] rice.
I was induced, and was told that labour might come on, oh, within a few hours, maybe it will maybe it won't, so just hang out on the beaching ball until I start to feel something.
I just kept thinking, "And once I've had my live baby, it isn't over. I have to do this all again. And for a baby that's not even living."
I went into labour almost immediately after being induced, (surprise! No time to even have a soothing bath and just let nature take it's course, hell no) so while the Brit went home to grab a coffee and have a shower, I was suddenly having a contraction every minute, and lemmetellyou: period pains had nothing on this. By the time he returned, I was being propped up on the side of my bed by 10 people and having the epidural I was begging to be administered, and the last thing I recall is him opening the door to my room and almost dropping his coffee.
"Yeah. Things are going a bit fast around here. We have to slow the contractions down, so we are going to thrust this injection into you quicksticks."
And then I lay on my back in labour for another 17 hours until they were born [via emergency c section because Sebastian's palms were covering his face and blocking the exit door.]
His cries were immediate; there was a silence the three minutes she followed. With a shock of black hair, strong lungs and the sweetest face. We couldn't believe he was ours.
We got to hold Molly and Sebastian together, as was intended. I was catatonic, but I remember this like crystal.
The Brit and I and Sebastian have survived a year with each other. We've survived the pooh, the vomit, the colic, the crawling, the new teeth, the hundreds of hours of sleep deprivation, the sadness and the joy, the breastfeeding, the weaning, the separation anxiety, the intense cuteness only a baby could be. And I couldn't imagine it any other way.
Happy birthday my most precious, darling child. And happy birthday twins of mine, one on Earth and one divine.
The love I have for this little boy is indescribable - he is my light, my joy, and pretty much the reason I do anything these days. Anything I do, indirectly relates back to him, even to my looking after my health better for the longterm - also I am paranoid that I am going to die of cancer one day - but I want to be the healthiest I am simply so that I can be with him in this life as long as I can.
Being pregnant and a mother to my children has given me some new perspectives I never thought I'd have or care about. Just being pregnant with Molly and Sebastian and having them kick me, grow inside me and seek comfort in my womb made me fall in love with them both the moment I knew they even existed. There is no doubt about it - the maternal 'thing' kicked in for me pretty much straightaway. The thought of being apart from them, someone hurting them, or getting anything but my love, even before they were born, was inconceivable to me. And yet I also realise there are mums out there that do the unthinkable, and I just can't comprehend it.
My children, dead or alive, have enriched me so much. I've learnt new things about life and people, picked up new skills, and an appreciation for living every day, and my little family.
He is such a happy little boy. Now finally settled - almost 3 months later - in nursery, to the point where he waves me goodbye with a giant smile and goes in for a hug with his key worker.
His teeth have finally surfaced, and all at once, so party party party. Over the course of ten days he has four teeth pushing through - and the nights are sleepless once again. They're like little razorblades, and more than ever he comes in for cuddles and hugs.
We are so proud of this little chap, who is such an affectionate soul. He has always loved to be close to us than not, from the day he was born. He holds his hands out for hugs now, and he buries his head in my shoulder. It's absolute heaven.
He is also such a smiley baby. He just beams and giggles at me and at anyone. He is not discerning in the slightest, he is a social butterfly, and just loves to smile.
He is such a character. So funny sometimes, he makes us cry with laughter.
Then there's the moment I walked into the sitting room and found him standing next to the coffee table, swinging his baby monitor around by the aerial. His first haircut the other day that's made him suddenly look a lot older than he is.
He is also getting naughty. I think we are going to have a
He is my joy and while he looks like Daddy (mostly), everyone knows he has my eyes. Big, brown eyes - which mirror mine exactly.
He is my little survivor. He could've died, just like his twin. He could've suffered a similar fate, but he survived. He was always the stronger, bigger one, and so to me he is my ultimate little fighter.