I am always Blogging about The Git. He is at an age where he is funny, sweet and bloody irritating. This does not mean that I do not think about Number One Son, James. Known as Bear to his family. I think of him every day and miss him so much.
James has just attained a 2:2 in Media Studies this week. I am so proud of him. I actually talked to his dad tonight. We don't often talk, as firstly he had a very 'rabid' girlfriend and secondly he has been abroad for some years. The Grill-Friend is past history and he has returned home. We are both so proud of James' achievement.
I want to tell you the story of his birth some 22 years ago......
We were looking forward to having a son. We had a daughter, a beautiful, blonde curly daughter, with a sweet voice and an angelic personality. She was 2 years and 10 months old when he was due. My daughter was very excited and wanted a sister. I remember wanting a sister, we were two boys and two girls. When my mother became pregnant. We soooo....wanted a girl. Even in our innocence, the battle of the sexes prevailed. Jax was born at RAF Norton Hall - a very small, little girl.
I carried my son well. Worked through most of the pregnancy, moved house and was quite happy. No scans for the baby's sex....not then. I was was quite sure I was carrying a boy. A false start happened on the 7th of November 1987,( some three weeks early) which is why I still stutter over his date of birth, 22 years later.
Steve ( James' dad ) drove me to the hospital. We arrived and a midwife came in, she was being a bit strange with me and I could not understand why? I had rung my mother who was serving a tour on Ascension Island at the time to tell her I thought I might be in labour. Unbeknown to me she had jumped on the first available flight (we did not have T'Internet back then) and one of the old schoolies was a Flight Attendant on the plane, the gorgeous Ali Blindell. She asked Mum why she was so unsettled and when she heard I was in labour she went up to the flight deck and asked the Captain to patch a call through to RAF Wroughton, where I had been admitted. The conversation went something like this...
Captain: Hello this is Tristar, currently over the Atlantic Ocean, can you please give me an update on Mrs Harrison's (my married name) condition?
Midwife: Mrs Harrison has just been discharged with a false alarm, I have just put my feet up and your girlfriend is not on duty! ( Apparently, said Captain was going out with a Wroughton Midwife at the time).
Captain: (Obviously pissed off at grumpy midwife and egged on by Ali ) then said ; If Mrs Harrison comes back in to give birth, ensure she is treated well as she is the daughter of a V.I.P. Over and Out.
My mother landed and was surprised to see me heaving my pregnant bulk behind the wheel, meeting her off the flight. Luckily I was a resident of RAF Brize Norton at the time and only had to drive 5 minutes up the road. I suppose I got half the story from her but being heavily preggers did not take much notice. I finally went into labour in the early hours of the 9th November and whilst my mum flapped, Steve went into the bathroom and had a shower and a shave. I remember shouting that I needed the loo and could not get into the bathroom. Seems he was determined to meet his son as a clean shaven 'Civvy'!
I was admitted and subjected to so many questions...that I was in tears. The Captain of the plane had put this "CORPORALS WIFE" in an impossible situation! My mother railed at me being questioned and told the "madwifes" her husband was a big noise in the civil service...hilarious! He actually was at the time but if I tell you what he did I would have to 'keel you'!
It was all sorted about an hour later and it was my turn. No shouting, no screaming. Just me, his dad and a gentle midwife. James came into the world, fast asleep. No pain, no problem just my beautiful son. He caught the lovely midwife on the hop and she delivered him with one hand and opened the birthing pack with the other.
James was a little cold and sleepy so it took us two days to warm him up. I was finally allowed to leave hospital 48 hours later. My husband was away on a course and my mother drove us the 30 some miles home. A huge sense of responsibility on her shoulders.
James didn't really cry out loud for about six weeks, then he found his voice, taking us all by surprise! I adored him so much. His older sister decided that he was her dolly and shoved a week old baby into her dollies chair. Luckily my mum was there and stopped me from murdering her!
So that is the story of our sons Birth.
Steve now has a beautiful daughter by the name of Kirsty and I have the Git. The brothers and sisters all get on well. I refuse to call them 'half' - it really does not make sense. Family is family.
Namaste
Muse x
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