One year ago yesterday, I went shopping with my husband and toddler in Kingston. I was eight days overdue and grumpy. I’d been having Braxton Hicks for two weeks and was somewhat over false alarms. We were strolling down the pedestrian walkway when sharp cramps shot across my lower back. My first son was induced so I’d never gone into labour naturally before but for some reason, I knew this wasn’t another false alarm. I was nervous and apprehensive, but mostly I was excited.
During an episode of X-factor later that evening, we decided it was time to head into hospital. Cue a frantic drive from Kent for Granddad to look after older brother and an equally frantic drive through the streets of London by spectacularly well-prepared husband. I was slightly distracted by the ever intensifying contractions but not enough to miss the fact that husband enjoyed every minute of his ‘justified’ Stig impression. We did the hour long journey in 25 minutes…
We arrived at the very lovely Portland Hospital just after 11pm and the Beatle was born 7 and a half (long) hours later. A year ago today.
It’s been a beautiful year with a beautiful son – happy first birthday, precious son, I love you with all my heart.