It's going back a bit now, some 19 months, but memories are memories, and some we just can't get rid of.
It all started one Saturday morning in January 1987. I was lying in bed with my wife Jane, when she started to complain of stomach ache. I put my hand onto her big fat tum, & sure enough, there they were, the start of the contractions that would eventually result in the birth of our son James.
We had planned to go and see Jane's Mother that day as we needed to do some shopping in Winchester. With the contractions slowly increasing in frequency, at about 9 o'clock or so, we decided to get up and Jane went to have a bath. We had a bit of breakfast and then took the trip in the car to the Hospital. All appeared to be OK, & at about 11 we arrived at the Hospital.
Checked in, & all was taken care of. Jane was examined & found to be 4cm dilated, & she was feeling virtually no pain at all. After some deliberation by the Midwives, it was determined that James, in his infinite wisdom, had settled down as a 'footling breech'. With a lack of Anaesthetists around, it was eventually decided that Jane was to have a Section under general anaesthetic. Jane was not too happy about this understandably, but circumstances dictate situations to us all. So Jane was wheeled into the Operating Theatre, & I kissed her as she passed me dressed all in her green cap & gown. Fortunately for me England were playing the West Indies at cricket that day & so I was able to watch the action on the TV the Hospital had in the ward.
After some time, a man dressed in some surgical gear came towards me holding something in his arms. "Here you are" he said "You're the proud owner of a son". Funnily enough, virtually everybody that had seen Jane was convinced that James was to be a boy.
Holding James in my arms at first, I thought to myself, "OK, what do I do now". Being an only child & not really having any contact with young children, I was somewhat lost for things to do. Looking at James, he looked just like a large sausage wrapped up for Christmas.
Jane was eventually wheeled out of the theatre & into the room where both James & myself were sitting. She was quite delirious from the anaesthetic, & I shall spare you the words she was muttering under her somewhat confused breath. James was a good hefty size, at 8lbs 1oz when he got weighed on the scales by the Sister in charge that afternoon.
After about an hour, when Jane had begun to recover her composure & her sanity, she began to speak to James, who was still pretty zonked out from his dose of the anaesthetic he had received before coming out.
That night I went home wondering what I'd let myself in for. Being an ex member of Staff at the Hospital, Jane was given a room all on her own. Not too bad, & it gave her some time to recover. Walking appeared to be quite painful, Jane, bent over double with the scar still hurting. The days passed, with Mother, Father & James getting to know each other. Breast feeding became a bit of a trial, but this was supplemented with James getting a bottle every so often from the staff at the Hospital.
Right, so the great day had arrived - time to go home. Before we go, a weigh for James - this time he was down to 6lb 10oz. A bit low I thought considering his birth weight, but the staff didn't appear unduly concerned.
Home James, to a glad reception of new this & new that. Feeding was still a bit hit & miss. About the second night we had James home, I had conditioned myself that around 2am he was going to wake up feeling hungry & start crying wanting his milk. So my subconscious woke me, & funny, I couldn't remember James having woken up. I nudged Jane, who must have thought the same as me - was he all right. We woke James up, fed him & then went back to sleep.
James was being looked after by the Community Midwife on her daily rounds. Weighing James, he didn't appear to be putting on any weight. The Midwife had a chat with Jane's local GP to get her thoughts on the matter. It was eventually decided that James was to have a test weigh. We all went down to the local Health Centre when it was James' feeding time. James was to be weighed, then fed, then weighed again. It was what I had feared, he hadn't put on any weight, and in fact had even lost some. The Dr had the idea of Hospital, which seemed to be the logical thing to do. So off we all go back in the car, this time to the Hospital. The Dr having phoned to reserve us a bed. This was like a second home for James!
Immediately upon arrival, James was looked at by some Dr or other & his case history studied. "Right" they said, it could be meningitis, it's off to theatre for you for a lumbar puncture. What a thing to do to a baby not a week old. About time to get something to eat. Luckily one of us had some money, & so it was off to a Chinese takeaway for some Chicken dish or other. Straight back to the Hospital to see how our son was getting on. Upon entry back into the ward, & beside his bed, all we see is James in an incubator, drips & God knows what else coming out of him. I have never felt such a feeling of love & pity & absolute hopelessness in all my life. James was looking at me & his eyes were saying "Help me Daddy", but there was nothing I could do. I really had to fight hard to stop the tears from flooding. We both sat down at the end of the ward to eat our meal in peace, but I couldn't help but see James looking at me. Eventually it all got too much for me & I had to get it out of my system. I knew that he was in good hands though.
The next day I went back (Jane had stayed there with James), & I have to admit James was looking like a new person. The same child, but as if a new light had been put into him. I knew that all would be OK. It was obvious, as soon as the test weighing was carried out that James would have to be bottle fed. In preparation for James coming out of hospital in a few days I had to get all the gear for bottle feeding into the house. I was sent away to get tank & bottles & milk & tablets & Lords knows what besides. What milk to I get ? One looks very much like the other to me. Being a fairly conservative chappie I decided upon Cow & Gate - the only reason being that it was 10p cheaper than other brands at Boots !
Back at the Hospital, the staff on the ward were wonderful. They took us through the method of preparing the milk & how to store it & how to give it as a feed. Excellent training for when James was to come home. That day eventually arrived, & ever since that James has never looked back. He is now a wonderful & lively 19 month old toddler. Just perfect for his age in every way & thought.
I never knew kids could be so much trouble !!