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The Gratitudes 2

3/7/2019

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A series for Lent.

I'm grateful for my daughter.  I never thought I'd have kids.  My life wasn't exactly unfolding in that direction.  So she turned up as a huge surprise, hiccuping her way into existence.  Two weeks before she was due, a midwife, whom I thought was rather stupid, couldn't work out whether my baby had turned.  A scan revealed she was breech.  An appointment was booked to have her turned but, after MUCH consideration and NO knowledge of what this involved, I changed my mind.  Still had to hang about in the hospital for five hours waiting for the consultant so that I could TELL him I had changed my mind.  The marvels of the NHS.  But upon hearing other's experiences of having their babies turned, I was hugely relieved to have made this instinctive decision.
Because hospitals don't like doing surgery on Fridays (and weekends), my baby was born on a Thursday, the day before she was due.  I requested that the operating theatre be kept quiet and dim, with all voices low and no extraneous chatting.  Into this peaceful atmosphere, my baby emerged without a tear, fast asleep until they poked her.  A single squawk and she went back to sleep again.  She was the most peaceful baby on the (truly horrible, filthy, ghastly third-world) ward and went on to be an excellent sleeper.  
She still is!
I am also, it must be said, grateful to that rather dim midwife.  There was always a different one on duty when I had my check ups and my heart sank when I saw her.  But if it hadn't been for her lack of experience and knowledge, I might never have got that scan, never have found out my baby was breech, never had that peaceful Cesarean.  
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