Thank you so much for your baby congratulations. Here are my mum (89 years 2 months) and our grandson (12 and a half hours). Awww!
I always thought - up till now - that the sort of birth announcement that sometimes appears in the newspaper along the lines of "Mother and baby fine, father recovering" was ridiculous. Giving birth is, after all, hard work. Watching must be a doddle.
I no longer hold this view. Of course, giving birth is indeed hard work - labour - but being stressed about one's child giving birth is pretty draining too, pathetic as (I'm well aware) this sounds. I've been the one standing by to take Daughter 1 to hospital (Daughter 1 and SIL don't have a car) and because the modern thing is not to let you into hospital till the point at which your relatives are convinced that the new arrival is going to tumble out on to the carpet, I was at their house all day while she appeared to be quite far on in the process - but just not quite there yet. And her (lovely) parents-in-law had jumped in the car and driven up the 300 plus miles from Worcester to see the baby, arriving (because of the baby's reluctance to get on with it) some hours before the departure to hospital. So the whole thing was a mixture of a nice family party and the most nervewracking event in my life so far. (Yes, obviously it's all about me...)
I'm quite surprised at how I feel about this little person. I was slightly worried that, as a baby fanatic, my instinct would be to take him over, since he would clearly be my baby... I can so well remember thinking that no one could possibly look after my own babies as well as I could. But in fact, to my relief, I don't feel that at all. He's absolutely lovely, cute as a whole packet of buttons, a miracle of completeness (you should see his perfect little ears!!) and I would die for him without a second thought, but I quite understand that he's theirs, not mine.
Still, Daughter 1, though delighted with her tiny son, is tired, and the son, like tiny tyrants everywhere, kept her awake for quite a long time last night. I wish I could be there to help her but she's still in hospital because he's not feeding terribly well yet. He will. But he's tired with all that getting born stuff and then the yelling in the middle of the night. (His yelling, not hers.)
I can't quite believe that it was only yesterday that he was born! And the other nice thing that happened yesterday is that Ali Honey of Quilting Orchardist, and her husband R, were in town and came down for a glass of wine and a chat in the evening after our visit to the new little family in hospital. Which was lovely. What a day!
It's funny - it's just occurred to me that you can't really say to non-family members that your own baby is beautiful (though obviously you think he/she is). But somehow you can say it about your grandchild. Why is this exactly? It's fun!