What's in a name (again)

Powell Junior number two was born at 7.10pm on the 23rd March, 2009. Weighing in at 7lbs 5ozs he was slightly lighter than Harry, but had the same abundance of dark wavy hair.

It was an incredibly emotional birth, and Michele and I found ourselves in floods of tears - more so than with Harry. Why that is, I don't know; perhaps it was just that everything had happened so early and suddenly, perhaps it was knowledge that this was the last child we would make together, perhaps just the dawning enormity of what we had done again - created a whole new life, a brand new pair of eyes on the world.

Whatever it was, we were both drained by the time tea and toast came.

As the birth had been so quick, baby was coughing up a bit more phlegm than normal and was checked over by senior midwives and peadiatricians. All was ok.

Up till now, I haven't said what the baby's name is, and that is because, at that point, we just didn't know anymore. The "Thomas James" we were so certain of had lost favour in the last couple of days, and we were clutching at straws for a replacement. That evening we had narrowed it down to either Samuel or Joseph, but decided to sleep on it.

Paul kindly picked me up from the hospital and drove me home to where his fiancee was dozing off in front of the TV. After offering profuse thanks, they left me to cobble together some sort of dinner - unhealthy but satisfying.

Harry had gone to bed hours earlier like the good boy he has grown up to be, helped in part by the great relationship he has with his 'Uncle Paul' (although not officially an uncle until the wedding in October, he's all but an Uncle in name to our lad). Just after midnight, I crept into bed alone...

... and awoke to see Harry staring at me. Noticing that I had come to life again he greeted me in the only way he knows how - "Need some milk!".

That morning I had to tell Harry the wonderful news, that the baby in Mummy's tummy had come out last night, and that we were going to the hospital to see them both later on. Now our lad loves Thomas the Tank Engine, and I should have guessed that when I asked "What should we call your brother then, Harry?", he would look at the ceiling, tilt his head in thought then say "Uhhhmm... Thomas!"

I texted Michele with the suggestion of Thomas Joseph and, to my delight, she texted me back to say that she liked the sound of that name. So, Thomas Joseph Powell it was - and Harry could even claim that he named his little brother!

The Shortest Night

Talk about perfect symmetry...

If you look way on down this blog you'll find several entries called "The Longest Day" detailing Michele's labour and Harry's birth. In a complete turnaround, my second child was born under very different circumstances...

For the past few weeks, whenever Michele rang me at work I'd always get the reassuring "Hi love, everything's alright, I just..." whatever the message was. In other words, things weren't happening and there was no need to panic.

Come Monday morning and I get a phone call from Kamila, a colleague. She's poorly and can't come in today, would I let the boss know? All fine, except Kamila had previously offered to drive me home if I got "the call" while at work.

I get to work to find other people are off sick or off site, leaving only myself, my friend Vince and John, the boss. Just prior to lunchtime Vince went home with a bad headache - and then there was two. Then John announces that he's off into town to do some shopping - then there was one.

And then I received "the call" - Michele's waters have broken, but she's in no pain.

Oh. Bloody. Hell.

So, alone and in a mild state of panic, I fired off a few quick emails, shut everything down then prepared to leave. The plan was that I'd get a taxi to the train station and then a train from Brighton to Burgess Hill.

As luck would have it, I got a phone call from Paul, my friend and sister-in-law's finace - "You waiting to catch me?" he asked. Paul drives buses and today, he just happened to be driving the 2pm bus from the Royal Sussex County Hospital (RSCH) to the Princess Royal Hospital (PRH) - the bus route that I travel all the time. Paul said he'd hold on a few moments, so I made my way to the bus stop, bumping into my boss John, returning from town with armfuls of shopping on the way. Giving him a breathless run-down of what I had done, work-wise, I caught the bus and was on my way.
I got home at 3pm and met my wife with a warm hug. It was happening!

On the advice of staff at the PRH, we went in to hospital and arrived about 5.30pm, when Michele's contractions came on. About this time she looked like she did in the picture to the left.

After being examined by a lovely midwife called Marianne, things started to move - in a big way!

Contractions became more frequent and longer, sometimes while the midwife was still in the room.

Michele went into proper labour at about 6pm, and was tucking in to the gas and air again. :-)

At this time, I called home to speak to Paul who, together with fiancee Teresa and Michele's Mum, were looking after Harry for us. I explained that we would be there for the duration.

At this point, Michele started to let out a Banshee-like wail and I let out a strangled "Gottago!!". Paul's since told me that the mental picture he conjured up at that point will stay with him to the grave.

So let's recap here - we had barely had time to unpack the enormous kit-bag that Michele had prepared over the past few months with military precision, and we were already into labour. Contrast that to what happened with Harry and you'll begin to see what I mean about symmetry.

Back to the story and what happened next is almost unbelievable (to me, at least). While at her side sponging cold water on her forhead and gripping her hand, she made a push and the baby's head appeared! Michele was adamant that she wanted to feel the head at this stage and did so - even if, to her, it didn't feel like a head!

Another push and the baby's head was out, followed immediately by the rest of the body! I mean one moment nothing, the next moment there's a baby! Whooosh! Michele had given birth to our second baby - at 7.10pm, after just one hour's labour.

She had done it again - she'd given birth to another beautiful baby boy...










And all before Coronation Street had started!

The labour had been short compared to Harry's, the birth was a week early compared to Harry being a week late, this was a "traditional" panic-run birth while Harry was induced.

Like I said - perfect symmetry..!

The Excitement Mounts....

Incredibly, it's now just over a week until the due date and the midwife has confirmed that the baby is "engaged".

Experience dictates that we have a little bit more time to go after that, but everyone I've spoken to has confirmed that the second one is easier and comes faster/ earlier. So, I could be called away in the middle of writing this entry... scary thought!

Michele is baring up fantastically well, although she is very tiredl. Harry is in great spirits and I think he is catching onto some of the excitement Michele and I are feeling. We really are very much looking forward to meeting the baby now, and can't wait to hold him or her in our hands.

We also can't wait for Harry to meet the new arrival. A colleague I've spoken to told of how her little girl laid on the hospital bed next to her mum and the baby and was incredibly gentle and loving to her new sister. Something seemed to pass between the two of them, perhaps a mutual realisation that they had both come from the same place - had the same Mum.

Everyone is on standby and we are just waiting for things to happen now.

The next blog entry will be after the baby's born...

A Rose by any other name...

Hmmm, names.

Luckily, second time around (incidentally, one of my favourite Inspector Morse episodes) the task was easier.

The girl's name we rolled over from last time - Emily but this time the middle name would be Rose.

The boy's name was more tricky but after hours of conversations that went like the following...

Me : What about X
Michele : No, don't like it

or,

Michele : Well, what about Y?
Me : You kidding? No way.

we settled on a name that we both liked - Thomas. Yep, the very first name we were going to call Harry. Michele chose a new middle name - James.

So - Emily Rose Powell if we have a girl, Thomas James Powell if we have a boy. Simple.