Jack kept waking up last night, crying out every few hours or so. Paul trudged bleary-eyed back and forth between our room and Jack's, until the last time he screeched at around 5:00 this morning. Restless, not wanting to be confined to his cot, he must have sensed that something was up. Meanwhile, about 8 miles down the road, Caroline started having regular contractions. At 5:21 in the morning, she gave birth to a beautiful little girl called Emily.
We had lunch with Caroline yesterday; Jack and I watched with fascination as Emily the Bump moved around like an octopus in a Ziplock bag. Jack patted Caroline's belly and we talked about whether or not she thought the baby would arrive soon. So for all the ladies in waiting out there, the leek and potato soup at the White Hart pub in Godmanchester may well induce labour. High fives and congratulations to Caroline, Drew, and Phoebe! I'm sorry that my birth coaching skills weren't required, but hey - you're the one who requested a fast labour. Tee hee.
So, what a wonderful day to give birth. Why? Because it also happens to be the same day on which my gorgeous husband was born. Thirtymumble years ago today, Paul came into the world looking very much like his son. And like his son, he makes my heart leap and makes me feel very lucky indeed. I love you with all my heart.
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