When I had my baby I kept a diary just to have somewhere to put all my highs and low as I went from euphoria to tears to euphoria again, almost daily. I also kept lists of feeds, nappy changes and sleep times on my iPhone (please tell me I’m not the only one who’s done this?)

(FRIENDLY WARNING – the baby’s just been born – if you are a bit squeamish you’ve clearly not had children yet, as it’s all poo, puke and exposed bottoms) maybe glaze over at any gory bits).

Baby Bu’s Birthday – Day One
​I cannot believe it, after two days of what I would call ‘hard labour’ (though the hospital staff may beg to differ) Baby Bu is finally here. I am struck by the look on Cool Daddy’ face, as with tears in his eyes he tells me to, “Stop pushing – she’s here.” I do not believe it – the iPod hasn’t even shuffled to the next track yet. To my surprise Lynyrd Skynyrd ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ is playing on the docking station we brought from home as our baby girl makes her entrance into the world. (Music players of any description are in short supply the midwives tells us – thanks to people taking them home tucked in with their new bundle of joy. Cool Daddy and I are horrified at this little piece of information – it seems that even on the Maternity Ward at Kensington & Chelsea you have to keep one eye on your handbag even if you are delivering a baby).

I continue to push; I don’t know whether it is the effects of the epidural or all those pelvic floor exercises, but to my everlasting surprise pushing my baby out didn’t hurt that much! May be God is giving me a break after 44 hours of induced contractions which for the most part have been rather too close together.

Suddenly I realise she’s here and I don’t care anymore about labour, or injections, or being sick, or traces on your belly. None of that matters now as they pull up my puke stained, blood stained, amniotic fluid stained t-shirt (I have been showing my nether-regions to all and sundry for hours without the least bit of shame). As soon as my beautiful perfect baby girl is on my chest and in my arms I have never been happier. I do not care that she is smeared in gunk or that her skin tone resembles a blueberry. “I’ve been waiting for you my whole life,” I tell her as I kiss the top of her head and sing to my baby.

At my side is Cool Daddy. It is a heaven sent moment. Like when we faced each other during our wedding ceremony and made our vows and the Priest bound our hands together with her Stoll. It’s a moment of pure grace (and this is Baby Bu’s middle name), my love for both my husband and my daughter consumes me, I am content and in that moment I want nothing else in life but to be with them.

(To be continued…I didn’t know this should be a longer or shorter exert, there’s a lot more in the diary from the first day, but I didn’t want to become a baby bore. Feedback and let me know…more or less?)