2. Down: New beginning (5)
I sit in the corner doing my crossword. It's late (well, technically, it's really early in the morning) and after little sleep and a drive across the city, it's nice to have some respite.

My wife's in the shower in the room next door, and the TV's on in the background.

Occassionally I look up to see a woman going on about how people with poor credit ratings get ripped off, but mostly I focus on the crossword. It's going rather well.

I call out to check my wife is OK. She let's me know she's fine and gets back to her shower.

Eventually, my wife emerges from the shower, but doesn't get as far as the bed before a contraction kicks in. She curls on to the floor and I put down my crossword and fetch a midwife.

Having only been in the building for about an hour, the midwife is somewhat sceptical when my wife tells her she wants to start pushing. However, on reflection (or should that be closer inspection) agrees that we might be at the pushing stage after all and frantically starts trying to open packets of stuff and get things in order.

My wife does some pushing, whilst remaining in what looks, to me, to be an uncomfortable position on the floor.

Having pointed out to the midwife that she really can't get on to the bed between contractions, my wife makes a Herculean effort to haul herself off the floor and into a better position.

She does some pushing, and the midwife looks busy. I stand feeling quite useless while my hands are squeezed quite hard.

With the midwife at the business end, and my wife's head at the other, I helpfully pass messages between the two like an arbitrator in the middle east peace process.

My wife decides that actually, on reflection, she'd quite like some pain relief. I pass the message to the midwife, making sure to say please.

The midwife says "it's too late for that".

I am left with the uneviable task of relaying this news to my wife. She is not amused. Helpfully another contraction kicks in at this point and the doubtless colourful reply to the midwife which she was formulating is lost.

On the television, the lady concerned about poor credit has given way to some American doctors, and my crossword remains unfinished on the chair.

Then, in the blink of an eye, there's another person in the room.

My wife collapses on the bed in an exhausted heap and my second son gives a small cry to announce his safe arrival to the world.
- posted by Paul @ 2:10 pm |

 
We can see clearly now
As a little update to my earlier post, I'm pleased to report that the independent TV man was able to fix everything without the need to destroy our house.

On an unrelated note, if anyone can help me work out how to turn blogger comments on - simply clicking "show" doesn't seem to do anything, that'd be very much appreciated.
- posted by Paul @ 2:01 pm |