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Henry, and a doting father.
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May. 12th, 2011 08:58 amFred's waters broke at 5.30pm yesterday.
She was delivered of a baby boy by c-section at 10.31pm. Henry weighed in at 7 3/4lbs.
I got back to Dulwich at 3.30am. It is now almost 9am and I'm due back in the Hospital.
Go well and do good things.
She was delivered of a baby boy by c-section at 10.31pm. Henry weighed in at 7 3/4lbs.
I got back to Dulwich at 3.30am. It is now almost 9am and I'm due back in the Hospital.
Go well and do good things.
On Friday morning, the day of the Cambridge wedding, we saw the midwife.
After a few examinations with the old portable ultrasound-thingy that they have, she opined that the offspring-to-be was still in a breech position. So just after the wedding had finished we toddled off to the Nightingale ward at King's College Hospital only to have the diagnosis confirmed, and more importantly the news that the sort of 'piked' breech the baby was in, and the fact of this being a first baby, and the fact that SWMBO's stomach muscles are still ridiculously taut (fifteen years with a personal trainer twice a week can do that to a bod) meant that moving the baby about would prove difficult.
Doctors don't give advice anymore: they give information to enable folk to make informed choices. This isn't always what you want really.
Stats, however, do prove useful, and they allow folk to weigh probability. For despite that we are all sui generis to ourselves, we certainly aren't to the quacks.
Upshot of all this is we've opted for an elective C-section, rather than risk a breech-birth with all its attendant problems. So a lot of the ante-natal stuff we'd been practising and anticipating is no longer relevant. Anyway the date's been set: 12th May, nine days off. We're rather hoping the bathroom will be finished by then.
Fred, of course, has gone into work today, mono-manic lass that she is, and will probably attend the LLP's partner's meeting tomorrow too. After which I may just confiscate her Blackberry.
After a few examinations with the old portable ultrasound-thingy that they have, she opined that the offspring-to-be was still in a breech position. So just after the wedding had finished we toddled off to the Nightingale ward at King's College Hospital only to have the diagnosis confirmed, and more importantly the news that the sort of 'piked' breech the baby was in, and the fact of this being a first baby, and the fact that SWMBO's stomach muscles are still ridiculously taut (fifteen years with a personal trainer twice a week can do that to a bod) meant that moving the baby about would prove difficult.
Doctors don't give advice anymore: they give information to enable folk to make informed choices. This isn't always what you want really.
Stats, however, do prove useful, and they allow folk to weigh probability. For despite that we are all sui generis to ourselves, we certainly aren't to the quacks.
Upshot of all this is we've opted for an elective C-section, rather than risk a breech-birth with all its attendant problems. So a lot of the ante-natal stuff we'd been practising and anticipating is no longer relevant. Anyway the date's been set: 12th May, nine days off. We're rather hoping the bathroom will be finished by then.
Fred, of course, has gone into work today, mono-manic lass that she is, and will probably attend the LLP's partner's meeting tomorrow too. After which I may just confiscate her Blackberry.
