We were practiced, prepared, excited.
Waters broken, we were in the car on our way to maternity.
We chatted whilst London slumbered.
The lights of the London Eye had recently changed from blue to red – we lamented the change. The drive continued, uneventful.
We parked just as our journey accelerated to a hundred miles an hour.
Little Man was coming. But the coming wasn’t easy.
His heartbeat tumbling, we were rushed to surgery.
Little Man – ventouse-assisted – was drawn arduously into a world of bright lights, alarms and medical personnel.
Vacant-eyed I cut the cord, thankful we were four.