Tuesday, 13 June 2017

Adrian my son.

I wanted to be pregnant. I was already past 25. It was time. It was unfortunate that I got what was then called toxaemia now pre eclampsia.
At the fifth month I went for a blood pressure check which landed me in hospital until term, with one weekend at home for good behaviour.
I became institutionalised. I knew the ward staff and routines. Sometimes I was well enough to help!
By the last month I was ready. I knew all the signs...I'd sat with several patients in the early stages of labour .
One morning I had helped with the tea round, went back to bed and felt something happening.
I told a passing sister that I was in labour.
"You are much too cheerful to be in labour." She announced so it was much later that I convinced them.
I was pushed on a trolley to the labour ward past rows of waiting fathers to be. One of them was my husband. I waved at him. Startled he followed me up the corridor.
A few moments later he came into the delivery room and fainted! The nurses left me to pick him up but by that time the baby was born.
He was beautiful, very small but perfect.
I knew the huge joy of childbirth denied to so many...it was simply glorious. There was no depression just total joy!
I took him home ten days later....
Today would have been his birthday. He died at fifty . I miss him.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Post a Comment