Birth Stories Part II

Danny's arrival!
Danny's birth was quite different from that of his older brother. He was due on 20th August 2008 which, if you are a teacher like me, you know is pretty disastrous! In the UK kids start school in the September before they turn 5, so being born at the end of August means you start school immediately after you've turned 4. However, since Zac was 3 weeks over his due date I reckoned I could cross my legs and hope for September!

2 weeks to go- beached whale impression!

We had resisted finding out what we were expecting with Zac, but second time round I was quite keen to know. I thought this pregnancy felt a bit different so I'd begun imagining a little girl. When we went for the first (and only) scan, at 20 weeks, I asked the sonographer if she was allowed to tell us what we were having. She asked if we both wanted to know and when I said yes she said, "well I've seen what I need to already!" and I knew at once it was another boy. For a split second I felt a little disappointed, I was pretty sure we wouldn't have a third so I wasn't going to have a daughter, but the feeling only lasted while the news sunk in and then I was really looking forward to having brothers- which has indeed turned out to be the best thing ever.
As we got closer to the due day things got pretty emotional. Martin's elder daughter Gemma had been living with us while she finished her A-levels, but her mum and younger sister Jo had emigrated to Australia 10 months before and she was due to fly out to join them on the 26th August. I wanted her to meet her new brother before she left but I was also still hoping for a September birth.

Last days of being my only child!

On the morning of the 26th Baby B still hadn't arrived and I had to go into hospital for a check up. I was feeling pretty uncomfortable. My mum came with me as Martin was helping Gemma with her packing and last preparations to go. The midwife said she thought I was in the early stages of labour and did a stretch and sweep. Unlike with Zac this had pretty instant results. I came home but knew that things were definitely happening. Since I'd had a 24 hour labour last time I agreed that Martin should take Gemma to the airport as planned and we said a pretty emotional goodbye. I then got into a warm bath to try and get comfortable but the contractions were getting much worse. Mum phoned Dad to take me back into hospital so that she could stay and look after Zac.
I remember mum trying to attach my tens machine in a total panic and me trying not to show Zac that I was in a lot of pain- although he seemed unaffected by the weird day we were all having!
Dad drove me to the hospital and I was put straight into a delivery suite with the extremely welcome tank of gas and air. The midwife disappeared off to find a baby monitor and was gone for ages- about 40 mins I think. At this point I was unbelievably grateful that my dad was a retired GP and had delivered plenty of babies in his time. My waters broke and Dad pulled the panic cord to get someone back. The midwife came, did a quick check, and disappeared again! It was so different from the previous time when I had someone with me all the time. Dad was doing a brilliant job of appearing calm but I could tell that he was pretty incredulous about the lack of attention. He checked my caesarian scar which was only 19 months old and could have been an issue but luckily it was all fine. Finally the midwife arrived and asked Dad if he wanted to go and get a coffee. In my head I was begging him not to go as I was really appreciating having a hand to hold, but I think he needed a break from this very unexpected occasion, so I squeezed the midwife's hand instead. When dad came back his mobile rang and I could hear him saying to Martin, "Where abouts on the M4 are you, you probably need to get here pretty quick if you don't want to miss it!"

Determined to arrive!

I was so relieved when Martin arrived I was promptly sick over the edge of the bed! I can't begin to imagine what a traumatic day it was for him. To say goodbye to his eldest child indefinitely and to meet his youngest for the first time a couple of hours later was pretty intense!
I think it was less than half an hour between him getting there and Danny arriving- out the right exit, with only a bit of pushing, and only 4 hours after I arrived at the hospital. I couldn't believe it had happened so differently from Zac's birth. It was lovely to be able to hold him straight away and say hello. Less lovely to have lots of stitches in a more painful area!

Zac meeting his new brother in hospital.

We only had to stay in over night and then Martin and Zac arrived to take us home. Zac seemed pretty impressed with the new baby- partly because he'd got him some lovely presents I'm sure. All my worries had been about leaving Zac, potentially for a few days, while I had the new baby but in the event he had a lovely time with granny and hardly registered I wasn't at home.

And then we were a family. Baby B had arrived, 7lbs11oz. It took us weeks to agree on his name. Martin wanted  the name Daniel, which I liked but didn't want to use because I'd taught lots of Daniels over the years. I'd promised my grandfather years before that if I had a son I would give him grandfather's middle name Kindersley. Martin suggested Augustus, because he liked it and he was born in August and it fitted with my Classics education. So in the end he was registered as Daniel Augustus Kindersley Broomfield! (Can't wait til he gets to say it on his wedding day!) Names are funny aren't they. We were both settled on Zachary Hugh months before Zac arrived. We couldn't name Danny for ages after his birth, even tho we knew we were expecting a boy. But now I think Danny suits him through and through.

The Broomfields.