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:
Aww, this beautiful post makes me all teary!
Very cool post - had me thinking about Jack and Meg's birth.
[hug]
Awesome post! Makes me want to breed :)
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...")
Ah :-)
Awww...
keep being a great mum.
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