Thursday, 14 October 2010
Where do I start? From the beginning, I guess. Eddie is our precious little boy born on a hot day in July. He was born on a Sunday evening weighing 4kg 610g. I was supposed to have a planned c-section next day, but Eddie was in such a rush that he couldn't wait another day. When he was taken out of my body and put on my breast, Eddie was quietly sucking on his thumb and contemplating his new life. I was marvelling at my baby son and thinking he looks so different from Sasha. Sasha's birth was a very traumatic experience. While they were stitching me up, the music played in the background, it was Take That "We can rule the world". I have never been a big fan of Take That, leaving it to silly teenagers, but I found it strangely comforting and reassuring. My surgeon, a handsome Greek doctor, did a great job, and later all the other medics who looked at my scar, commented on the quality of the stitches. All in all, I thought the op went well, the team worked as one, and I will always remember nurse Tamara who was lovely. She told me she was named after Gagarin's wife.
The stay in the hospital after the op was another experience altogether. I wish they didn't allow just so many visitors. Some of the ladies next to me clearly abused the notion of 3 visistors max at a time. One of them, just next to me, had all the estate coming to visit her, and you should have seen the visitors, they looked like coming of "Little Britain". How are you supposed to rest and recover with so many people around? I banned everyone but my husband from coming to the hospital. My Mum was looking after Sasha at home, and she was really the only person I'd love to see while there. For Sasha it would have been too stressful to visit me, so I steeled myself to wait for a few days, but I missed him so much. I have never been away from my boy, not even for a day, so this separation was difficult for both of us.
And now I have two sons.