a birth story - part one

This is a post that I never really thought I would write.

For the sake of my darling son's sanity,

I just wasn't sure that all the personal and disgusting details

should really ever be written down,

let alone published for all the world to see.

But this is the reality of his coming into the world

and is therefore an important part of his story,

which is,

after all,

the whole point of Dear Beautiful.

....... But feel free to look away if you want.

On the evening of Saturday February 5th,

my husband and I were in our living room watching the television and arguing.

We were four days away from due date

and our little Dollop still didn't have a name.

Our plan all along had been to have at least four names picked out

long before this point;

two boys names and two girls names.

We hadn't ruled out having eight names picked out actually

if we had strong feelings about particular middle names.

But instead,

in week 39 of pregnancy

we had decided on absolutely nothing.

We had ideas and names we liked,

worryingly there were very few that we agreed on,

but nothing set in stone.

And as I bounced on my birthing ball

(in an attempt to get gravity to do it's best to get Dollop on the way)

I decided that enough was enough

and we were not going to bed until we had decided,

once and for all,

on a first and middle name for Dollop,

be it a girl or a boy.

After MUCH disagreement, compromise and deliberation

we finally settled on four names that we loved.

I even wrote them on a piece of paper

to check that they looked okay written down.

I remember going to bed that night

feeling like that nagging worry at the back of my head had gone.

Sorting out names really was the last thing that we had needed to get done

in preparation for Dollop's arrival,

and we had finally decided.

Last box on the list was checked!

And with at least a few days to spare.

I had convinced myself that Dollop was,

more than likely,

going to make a slightly late arrival.

The statistics were in my favour

as first pregnancies tend to go past their due date

and I just "had a feeling" which I convinced myself was mothers intuition,

and it was telling me that I was going to be hanging around on February 9th

waiting for a baby that was yet to arrive.


Read the next part here.