| Subject: Good things come in little packages................. |
Author:
Dave P.
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Date Posted: 20:37:36 06/07/05 Tue
Tony, you mentioning the birth of your son reminded me of my first born and the experience that I had. As a preamble to this tale, let me give you an idea of my wife, Norma. She is of the petit stature, in 1966 she was 5' 0", 7st odd dripping wet but gorgeous with it (she was standing, looking over my shoulder as I typed that last bit!). We both agreed that I would be present for the birth and, luckily, I was on leave at the right time. So, come the hour and she is rushed into hospital with me in tow. By the time I had caught up with her, she was ensconced in the labour ward and as I walked into the ward, I could see her lying on her side with her back towards me and she seemed to be asleep!
I went up to the bedside and a nurse explained that "she was in between contractions at the moment and that was a good thing because it allowed her a bit of rest. When the contraction starts again, she will wake up and if the pain gets too bad, let her have some gas and air" and she thrusts the mask into my hand and toddles off. So there I am, sitting, holding her hand and thinking "this isn't too bad is it?" when the next contraction started. The first I knew about it was the excruciating pain as she squeezed my fingers until they went black! Sucking great gulps of gas and air, I soon started to feel much more relaxed and I could even stand the pain. It wasn't long before it was suggested to me that I go home and come back after events had taken their course and, to my eternal shame, I admit, I practically ran from the ward, giggling with utter relief (and intoxication).
I rang the hospital every ten minutes for practically two hours until, finally, I was given the good news. I had a daughter, 6lb 4oz! Screaming "Chuffed to f**ck" down the phone and dropping the handset, I ran all the way back to the hospital. My poor wife never knew that I hadn't been there for her all the time and it took me a few days to pluck up the courage to admit it but we both agreed that I wouldn't be there for any future kids either and we went on to have five. Just a footnote here, my youngest surviving son, Philip, was 12lb 8oz, born in Isserlhonne (spelling?). People came from all over the hospital to see him after seeing how small Norma was!
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