Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Wuss

I'm feeling a leetle bit soppy tonight. 6 years ago I was sitting in hospital, in a room surrounded by young, pregnant Polynesian girls who were puking their guts out, waiting for a diabolical drug to start softening my cervix. 24 hours later my wee boy was hauled out of me with a vacuum cleaner, and then wrenched away from me to go and be probed and have a shitty needle stuck in his hand. Fair to say that it was really a horrible experience, that ended up being incredibly fabulous.

Six years seems more significant than 5. At 5 he was really still a baby, now he is big and strong and rolls his eyes at me because I am a dork. He is clever and helpful and sometimes tells me he loves what I'm wearing.

I hope he continues to grow and thrive, and I hope he is always the same.

7 comments:

Joanna said...

Aww, this beautiful post makes me all teary!

Mike Riversdale said...

Very cool post - had me thinking about Jack and Meg's birth.

[hug]

sas said...

Awesome post! Makes me want to breed :)

Anonymous said...

Happy congratulations to your elder little fellow and you too. Your account is a petit bijou.

(On a loosely-related note, I enjoy telling the adolescing puppies the story of their birth. In truth, it's not dissimilar to human stories: "...and then your mother gave a mighty roar and tried to bite everyone around the table...")

Violet said...

Ah :-)

Oy Vey said...

Awww...

Anonymous said...

keep being a great mum.