Last night kiff and I went to the hospital to meet Ethan (Matt and Emily's new baby). First thing we saw was an unshaven, wired Matt in the hallway. We ran up to meet him - big hugs.
He let us in the room and there was Emily in the bed, her dad beside her in a chair, holding the baby. She looked up at me and shook her head - wide eyes: "you don't want to know".
4 days of labour. 3 days of pain until the epidural. The midwives said they had never seen a labour like that before. Castor oil. back labour. oh man.
But Ethan is beautiful. I got a chance to hold him and our little guy in-utero gave some big boots inside. I think he wants to play.
When we got home I could not sleep for ages. Freaked out about everything that the hospital visit made real.
Eight months pregnant and the fluffy blissful feelings and ravenous hunger have shifted. I am less hungry. More anxious. More emotional, overall. Last night it hit me: We are bringing in the next generation.
