Friday 31 August 2012

Joe César by Theo

Well, what a contrast with Rosie's birth: whereas her entry into the world was a late-night, adrenaline filled surprise that happened in what seemed like the blink of an eye, her little brother Joe's entry proceeded calmly along planned lines and simply involved a lot of waiting.

Despite Kate's desire for a normal birth and despite a mountain of curry, pineapple, aubergine and a fair amount of certain activities thought to promote labour, Joe did not arrive by his due date. So Kate was promptly booked in for another cesarian. Arriving at Southmead at the appointed time (7am) the only thing we had to contend with this time was boredom - there were three scheduled operations that morning and Kate's was the third. So we settled down to a hefty dose of dystopian literature: Kate reading The Hunger Games and Brave New World for me (which I soon finished). Having hoped I'd be back to help Elena out with Rosie by lunch time, we were slightly miffed not to be called until past 12pm.

Dressed in scrubs we were guided politely into the operating theatre, feeling mildly like extras from Green Wing. The all female team were brilliant, and also very funny, maintaining a witty repartee throughout while also complimenting Kate on her choice of birth music - a folky mix of Rokia Traore, Kate Bush, Sufjan Stevens and the like (though not The Like). Kate couldn't see any of the proceedings, but I could (in the reflection of the light stand) so I saw the moment his hairy head came out followed by his crinkly, red 8.5lbs body. Magical.  

The team popped him almost straight onto Kate's chest and the sound of her heartbeat calmed him straight away, another magical moment. He promptly peed on my hand when the time came to take him off - starting as he means to go on I suppose. In the recovery room he started feeding straightaway, having not been away from his mum for more than five minutes - two other huge differences from his sister's early hours. She and Elena were promptly fetched from home to come and visit the new arrival.

He's called Joe César: Joe because we like the name, and have a several good friends of the same name; César - pronounced the Spanish way (Thesar) - in memory of our dear friend, sadly missed, César Jalon.

Tuesday 28 August 2012

Boat trip by Theo




It was a beautiful day on Saturday so we decided to take Elena, Rosie and the bump out on the water for a boat ride round Bristol harbour.

Friday 17 August 2012

new house, new lives by Theo

So we have moved, to a 3 bedroom semi in the Bristol garden suburb of Sea Mills. We have a house filled with IKEA furniture, we've completely repainted the downstairs (plus my Dad has put in a new floor in the sitting room) and final got our boxes down from my parents attic: we have become stereotypes. Actually, it's been something of a homecoming for me as, unbeknownst to me as we were house hunting, it from this area that my father's family hails - my grandparents were married at the church not one minute from our door, and my Dad remembers walking in the woods just up the hill.

We've been joined in our new home by the lovely Elena, the sister of a Catalan friend, who is spending August with us to improve her English and to help us with Rosie when Kate gives birth. The due date for Rosie's baby brother is August 26th and Kate is booked in for an elective cesarian on the 29th if he hasn't turned up by then. In contrast to when Rosie arrived and we were caught on the hop this time we are prepared - the hospital bag has been packed, the cot is assembled and clothes ready. We've talked through the process with Rosie and she seems quite happy with it all, even roleplaying packing her own hospital bags and heading off to get her baby brother out. Bless.

So, it's all change for us, and not just physically but mentally too. This is the first time I've ever owned a house and will undoubtedly put paid to the nomadic existence I've lived up until now - 30 years, 24 different houses/flats across 5 countries on three continents. It's time to put down roots. Who knows, perhaps one day Rosie's name will join those of her great-grandparents on the register at St Edyths church.