Finally, we meet!

Hello my dearest little one,

I was intending on writing to you Wednesday morning just before your arrival because you were only scheduled to be delivered at about 12h30, and dad and I had to be at the hospital at 6h00 already, so lots of time right? Wrong,as usual...

But before I get to that, let me tell you about the sneaky mommy pulled to get us our own room. Ouma was incredibly kind and offered to pay for a private room for us so that we could just be alone together as a family without having interference from everyone else. I tried to book beforehand, but it works on a first-come, first-served basis. So as we arrive at the hospital, we find that we are at the back of the queue, but that's ok, I mean, how many people can afford a private room, right? Wrong again. I don't know what on earth made me hear what they were saying, because naturally I am a bit deaf, but at that very moment I heard the people in front of us saying they want the private room, and the lady at reception telling them that they must go to the ward after they have been admitted and find out if it is available. If it was, they must come down and pay for it. I gave dad one look, grabbed your bags and bolted up the stairs (ignoring the elevator). I don't think you have ever seen an 8 months pregnant lady run so fast my angel. As I got to the ward I told them to book us for the private room immediately please!!! Just as they wrote our name on the board, the phone call came from reception to ask if it's available, and we could comfortably say that it was not. Except, when the nurse who wrote our names down phoned reception again to confirm that they must keep the room for us, she said someone else already paid for the room...gulp...I almost jumped up and kissed the nurse when she told them that that was just too bad, their name isn't on the wall, ours is, so we are getting the room! Yay! So we have had all the privacy in the world, which is a very good thing because mommy is not the friendliest creature when the pregnancy hormones kick in...or out for that matter!

Ok so I know this isn't what you are waiting to hear about, but bare with me, I've been alone for quite a while, hardly receiving any visitors, with the exception of the usual suspects (Ohpaw, Ouma, Dad and boetie of course), so I feel like I have a lot of small,minor details that I have to share with someone...now nominated as you...

Ok so where was I, oh yes, we got the private room, so now we can put our feet up and relax, you are only coming at 12h30. I can still write some love letters to you, do my hair, maybe take a nap, after all, it's only 7h00 right? (You know where I'm going with this...)

One, two, three...the nurse comes into the room, gives me a gown, tells me to undress. The anethaetist comes to see me (a very very nice lady, Dr Goff), asks a couple of questions, bla-bla, whoops, there they wheel me off...

Dad and I was so surprised to find out that they were just calling for anyone who was ready, and apparently all the other moms were too anxious, so they opted for the more calm, mature ones (yeah right) to go first. I had to re-adjust my breathing a bit because I felt my heart going at a hundred beats per minute and dad was hopping up and down cracking jokes and trying to make me laugh, a sure sign of distress I tell you. But what a wonderful experience it turned out to be. I loved absolutely every minute of it. Dr Goff made my legs turn to jelly and Dr Burger started with the procedure (something I witnessed on camera afterward, wow...) Dr Goff told me everything they were busy doing so it helped my nerves as I couldn't see anything behind the screen. Then finally at 08h43, after listening to the doctors complaining about traffic and the nurses laughing at some or other thing...there it was...your beautiful beautiful little scream. It sent tears running down my cheeks just hearing how healthy your little lungs were. Dr Vermaak (the genius doctor who probably saved your brother's life) took you for your assessment and dad went with. We got the all clear...a beautiful, healthy little boy with pitch black hair, weighing 2.46kg, 48cm long, head circumference 33cm...pefection. They put you on my chest, and I had a feeling of "Hey, I know you", but I felt so helpless because I couldn't sit up or hold you. So they took you to the nursery with dad where they washed you while "sewing" me back up again. I think dad especially liked that bit of time getting to know you.

Oh, just before I continue, let me point out here that Dr Burger is also a genius, who probably saved both our lives just by deciding to go on holiday on your "supposed" caeser day. As he was cutting through the layers, he noticed that the last membrane was so extremely thin that he strongly reccomended (actually commanded) we do not have any more children, because if I had to fall pregnant again that membrane will probably rupture, not leaving a very good aftermath...but...other than another pregnancy, the possibility that it could've happened to me and you, had I carried to term, was very good, and that would've spelt disaster my angel...so God always knows what he is doing, even if it is just planning a holiday.

Now you are finally here. I haven't seen your father this proud since your boetie came out of hospital. He's just gleaming! And your big brother just wants to play rough with you. We still need to keep him a safe distance away because he doesn't quite get how fragile you are and he already wants to play rugby.

I have had the wonderful opportunity of getting to know you pretty well the past 2 days. I've learnt that, for now, you are quite a content little man, not crying for feeds, just merely eating your blanket, so I know you're obviously looking for something. You have no problem drinking, taking as many gulps as you can before falling asleep. You really seem like a happy little man. I don't have to stress about anything. You eat well, beathe well, sleep well... all and all...I really shouldn't speak too soon, it's only been two days..let's see what I say next week.

Oh, dad and I have dubbed you "The Little Paul who Could" because you are, as far as I know, the first Paul in two generations who didn't have to go to ICU or stay in hospital for a long period of time, one who actually made it just one week before being considered "full-term". And all 3 men are officially considered Positive (O+ that is), leaving me behind to balance things out with a little negativity (A- that is). Luckily for now it doesn't seem to have caused any jaundice in you my sweet, hopefully tomorrow the results will remain the same, then we can go home, yay!!!

So my "not-so-little" one, I cannot wait for the rest of lives together, you, me, dad and boetie, a perfect little family...

Uh oh,someone is stirring and trying to eat his blanket...will chat again soon ok. Love you so much already!