Baby No 50

Just when I want to despair that Charlotte is feeding hourly, that the colic still haunts us, that tiredness is causing me to utter only two syllable words, a reminder springs from the past to make me feel incredibly grateful for this experience.

The operation I had three years ago, the embloisation, was an incredibly risky op, given the fact that we did not know if I would be able to have children afterwards. We decided to take the risk, as without it our chances were definitely nil. I would not class myself as a gambler but a possible no is much better than a definite no.

I still remember thinking when Cameron was born that he was such a precious gift and that I probably would never be graced with another. Then Charlotte arrives. I wont say that I don’t get frustrated with the lack of sleep, the never ending cycle of feeding, winding, trying to settle her into her bed, and then repeating the loop when she wakes up, the lack of time to do anything else other than spend time with Charlotte. However, I always remember how precious she is. The same goes for Cameron when he is naughty or trying to test my will power.

Anyways, I digress, Charlotte is now affectionately known by me as “Fifty”. This is because, out of about 700 women who were actively trying for babies following embolisation, there were actually only 50 babies born and she is number 50.