Yesterday I promised you a fuller story of the events surrounding the birth of my beautiful new grandson, Faris.
here it is – but I do have to point out, in the interests of clarity, that this is not the really interesting story you would have heard from the proud new parents who could have given a first-hand account of the moment young Master Adli arrived in the
world. Rather it’s a tale of the texts which passed between the Youngest of the Darling Daughters and me over the course of this momentous day.
B and I had planned to stay the night before with the Parents-to-be and to go with them, early next morning, to the hospital where we would await the Great Event. However, on advice from others about how much waiting around we would have to do, we agreed
that we would instead arrive for the start of visiting hours at 3 p.m. when we would surely be able to meet and greet the New Arrival. This meant a long and anxious wait at home for news.
The Middle of the Darling Daughters had been told she would be the first Caesarean section of the day at 8.30 a.m. so by 9 a.m. in my imagination the baby had been born and was just being smartened up to meet the world. But –
“Been bumped to second” came the text - followed, a little later, by “Still waiting” and, later still, the news that an emergency Caesarean had taken precedence.
All through the morning, the Youngest of the Darling Daughters kept up a stream of increasingly frustrated texts. Here’s how they developed:
“We just have to be patient...” (She thinks I’m getting all het up.)
“Haven’t you heard anything?” (She doesn’t
want to miss out on anything.)
“I can’t wait anymore...” (She never was too good at waiting for things to happen, even as a child.)
“CAN’T BELIEVE WE HAVEN’T HEARD YET. GETTING HASSLE FROM JACK AND HAZEL” (I’m led to believe that capital letters in texts or emails is the
equivalent of shouting. You can tell she was working herself up into a right two and eight.)
“Grrrrrr...” (She’s turned into a tiger...)
This went on for some time until, finally, we received the news we were waiting for. I wasn’t expecting to hear the voice of the New Mother herself on the phone
but I’ve never been more pleased to hear it. Not too long afterwards and we were with her, bearing a “New Baby” balloon and a rather large panda (her first toy bought for her by my parents when she was born was a panda – Mr B and I
scoured the internet for a worthy successor.)
I thought I would cry buckets when I saw her and her boy. But I was just too full up for tears. Too happy to
weep. Too excited. Too overwhelmed.
What of the Youngest of the Darling Daughters? I hear you ask. Well she didn’t stay silent for long. She was off
“I want news, pics, gossip, cuddles. Aw, I want to be there! Fill me in!” (I did my best.)
“Pics?” (I sent her one, taken on my mobile phone. I am not too good at taking photos on my mobile phone because my camera shake becomes all the more pronounced.)
“Gorgeous! More, more!” (I text back that she is very demanding and I am doing my best...)
“OK and yes, of
course I’m demanding. I WISH I WAS THERE!” (She’s shouting again...)
Well today she had her wish and spent a happy few hours at her sister’s
bedside, cuddling her little nephew and doing the “Proud Auntie” bit in style. Following which she posted 27 delightful photos on Facebook, presumably to show me how it should be done.
Sunday it will be Mothering Sunday – the first one as a mother for the Middle of the Darling Daughters and so extra special. She’s invited members of both families to come and meet the newest member of the
two clans. We think she must be quite mad but we all love her for it.
The Youngest of the Darling Daughters and I will be helping with the catering
and other arrangements. We will communicate by telephone and by email.
And by text, of course...