where to begin.
Firstly, is it OK to give a blanket thank you to all of you for your well wishes and congratulations? It seems so slack, particularly the bolstering role it is playing for me at the mo.
I had thought this post and those around it would be all earth-mother-ish, organic, peaceful, ecstatic and so on and so forth.
But here we are.
Do I do the labour story? Do I do the post-delivery story? Do I try and encapsulate this brave new world? Do I…
I dunno.
This little guy is here, he is just an absolute joy.
Gorgeous and just a little monkey.
He looks exactly like Felix did at birth except he’s got my body shape rather than that of Chef.
He’s a bit jaundice which is making him sleepy and because of how washed out I am and the fact the kid has some reserves, I haven’t really been on top of the feeding and getting it regular so the jaundice is being watched etc.
But my milk is in – first squirt into his eye has been achieved – and he has basically fed on and off tonight from 4.50 to 8.30 so I’m kinda relaxing on the jaundice-watch.
The labour was exactly the same as Jasper’s, in that my waters broke, three hours later labour kicked in and 45 minutes later Grover was in the world.
I was naked and standing up.
No drugs.
No tearing.
I felt invincible.
Then my uterus went on holidays or what is called a ‘relaxed uterus’ state. This is something that can happen when you have a fast, intense labour – that it just decides it’s had enough and doesn’t keep contracting down, so then you bleed a lot. Which I did. About a litre, which I didn’t think sounded like that much, but every medical person who reads my notes goes, “gee, you did lose a lot didn’t you.”
Then there was lots of drugs.
So now I feel completely washed out and hit by a tank and seem to have lost my mojo.
I’m nothing if not dramatic.
If I even dabble in the thought of how I’m going to do this when Chef is at work five nights a week the sense of overwhelming-ness swallows me whole.
There’s so much to tell and so little time and energy to do so.
I really am OK, really. I need to get my iron levels back up and sleep as often as possible, so they are my current goals.
Oscar is a lot better today. He basically slept for 36 hours, was unresponsive, listless and they thought had pneumonia. He doesn’t. It’s a severe upper respiratory virus which all of us have to varying degrees. Chef, Felix and Jasper have had it for weeks, Oscar and I developed it on Sunday and by Tuesday he was in hospital. Anyway, we’re all home, I’m pumping all of us full of vitamins and every other applicable medicine under the sun. I’m very nervy the new little guy will get it.
This all sounds so flat doesn’t it. It’s not meant to.
So here are some pics to let you all know that it really is all good and the arrival of our new little guy has just been spectacular.
And as everyone exclaims… four boys!
And some classic quotes:

Felix (who was at the birth and cut Grover’s umbilical cord): “I almost cried when he came out because it was so exciting.”

Me: “What’s this in my hair, blood and guts? (on closer inspection) It is blood and guts!”

Me: “Wow, that’s a lot of blood. (on closer inspection) What’s that, it looks like a liver.”

Doctor (about to do an internal – WITH HER ENTIRE HAND – to determine blood clotting situation): “Now, this is going to hurt and it’s going to hurt a lot. I suggest you suck on the gas at the strongest dose and don’t stop.”

Doctor (about to give me a suppository up the arse to help post-labour contractions): “This isn’t going to be pleasant either.”