2nd day, second migraine- me that is! In hospital by 2.30pm. Both Hamish and his mum are asleep and having a good rest which is what they need. It seems very odd calling this child, Hamish. He is ours. That’s his name. I look at his little ears like small lettuces and the intricate joints on his fingers and am reminded of the words of Psalm 139 “fearfully and wonderfully made.”
The changing of the beds in the ward, some people leaving, others arriving. It prompts in me the same thoughts surrounding my dad’s funeral. Hamish’s birth and my dad’s passing, both very intense experiences and in a way all-consuming but then things move on and life moves on and you are no longer the focus, so to speak.
Cradling his head is like holding a warm coconut in your hand.
He is funny when he cries with his red face and toothless grin. I will recall this when I am 95 and crying with a toothless grin myself!
Today I saw two people in him – my dad and my dad’s brother.
What is really bugging me is that he is already getting more Christmas presents than me.
I awake thinking the pleasure will soon be over but it won’t for he is coming home with us. He is ours.
Not a good first night. He was up 4-5 times and we struggled a bit coping. How easy for a new child to cause strain between parents.
A friend came and gave us some help with the housework. What a blessing!
Another not very good night. Baby up from 1-4pm. It is frustrating not being able to calm his troublesome tummy – Colic. I feel guilty about feeling frustrated and wound up. Cradling him in my arms I go down stairs and watch Brazilian football on TV and let him cry himself out.
Santa came. Predictably Hamish got more than me.
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