If you’ve read my previous blog entry you’ll be aware that my wife gave birth just over a week ago. Almost as soon as she was discharged from hospital, however, she was re-admitted because her blood pressure was at record-breaking levels.
Mother and daughter are now home and we have the opportunity to adjust to our new life. The experience was emotionally draining, tiring and horrible; we just wanted to be together as a family with our other daughter.
My new baby daughter was born last Thursday. There were a couple of small bumps along the way but it was a very straightforward delivery.
The little one is fantastic. She’s a beautiful wee thing that feeds well and is a delight to cuddle. My wife and I both think she is the spitting image of her elder sister at the same, young age.
Immediately after our eldest daughter was born, she latched on to mother’s breast for 30 minutes, suggesting everything was going perfectly. Mother and baby were discharged the next day and we returned home as a family. A day or so later, however, things started going wrong.
Baby slept most of the day but screamed the house down all night. There had been some surgical intervention during the birth so to help my wife rest I slept in our living room on a camp bed with baby in her Moses basket.
At the time of writing this post my wife was at the very extreme end of pregnancy. Life had become a waiting game and we expected her to go into labour at any moment.
I remember from when our eldest was born that this is an odd stage of pregnancy and second time round is no different. I don’t want to venture far from home in case I am needed and I’ve been feeling tense for days knowing that I’m going to be dashing off to hospital at any moment.