Father, Husband, Author - strictly in that order!

Friday

Our first outing... our health visitor arrived and we received the 'thumbs up'. We didn't have long so jumped in the car, together, and drove to the hospital for a hearing check. She checked out (and I was pretty funny to the nurses... at least I thought I was). From there we headed to Homebase, then Tesco, then Mama's & Papa's where we experienced our first 'poo up the back' scenario and usage of a baby changing room... there didn't seem to be much room to do anything. Add in a trip to John Lewis, Marks and Spencer, Mothercare and Tesco Homestore and we were pooped.

Once at home we relaxed and all was quiet... well, as quiet as all could be.

Later, Willow was not playing ball, she was playing something entirely different, and it wasn't a game I enjoyed. I found myself stressed, frustrated, annoyed and disappointed all over again. I left Charlotte to 'deal with her' and jumped in the shower. How many times am I going to do this? How many more times will Charlotte forgive me, allow my mood swings and impatience? I physically slapped myself in the face, a little dramatic but it felt like the right thing to do. I'm going to be better, I told myself once more, this time it'd be different. I took some deep breaths and felt better. I've never classed myself as a religious man although I do believe in something and I hoped that something was listening to me. I spoke a non-silent prayer. Give me more patience, I asked, I'll be better but if I could have some help that'd be grand. Praying couldn't hurt right?

Maybe, just maybe I'll be a better believer; I came out of the shower, with renewed patience and willingness. I entered the bedroom, prepared for anything, but instead I had nothing to do. Charlotte was asleep in the bed, and Willow was asleep in her crib. Thank you, I thought, and crawled into bed, cuddled my wife and closed my eyes. It was time to dream. I smiled as I closed once more.

Saturday

No stressing, no moaning, no grumbling, no grumpiness, Saturday was fantastic. Charlotte, Willow and I were in great moods and the day was brilliant. Cath had stayed the night before and we spent the day relaxing. We had a visit from friends Jodie, Gavin and their daughter Kaylin which was very pleasant, especially my game of hide and seek with Kaylin although I was told off for making loud noises when found.

Later that evening Big E and I went for a jog to keep in shape, it was a good jog. I'd love to be able to fill you in with what occurred in the evening but in all honestly I can't quite remember - which means that it was very tame or very stressful - either which way I won't try very hard to pull it back into the brain.

Sunday

What a day... deliberately we did nothing. I was due to go back to work the following day so wanted to do as much nothing as possible... we did a lot of nothing but I didn't feel ready to go back to work. I didn't want to leave Charlotte to do it all by herself but what choice did I have? What sensible choice that is!

Thursday started explosively. Today was supposed to be a 'Daddy is at work' practice day, ready for the real thing next week. It began well, with Charlotte successfully putting Willow to bed on the Wednesday night and both mother and father sleeping until the early hours of the morning.

At about 3am our self-set alarm went off reminding us to wake and feed our child. Charlotte got up and sorted her out. I dozed but couldn't quite get back to sleep until Charlotte joined me.

Just two hours later Willow was ready for another feed and a nappy change! Again, Charlotte tended to our daughter and I tried desperately to get some more sleep on the pretence that I would get up for 'fake' work at 07:00 and relinquish all fatherly duties from 07:30 until 18:00. Both Charlotte and I were ready for this, or so we thought. All of a sudden my ears were treated to the delightful sound that I soon realised was a fart. Not only was it a fart but it was a projectile poo and wee. Not only was Charlotte subject to small particles of poo being dashed on her but Willow had rainbowed (it may not be a term but it should be) wee a good two meters away from her position. It was hilarious, despite my best efforts and the fact I was supposed to be keeping away from fatherly duties I had to help. Although for a while I just didn't know what to do, we giggled and eventually got ourselves together and progressed with the day.

Willow wouldn't settle so I took up more duties and held Willow while Charlotte showered, of course this gave me time to play... you guess it... online poker!

Our midwife visited early in the morning and fortunately we were again given the all clear, she had continued to put on weight so we were extremely pleased.

Charlotte had to return unused goods so jumped in the car and drove like a madwoman. I had expressed milk to use if I got desperate but Willow decided to do nothing but sleep. This is the kind of fatherhood I can handle... watching. As Charlotte returned home I officially clocked off and Charlotte assumed all duties and I managed to get on with busy work... paperwork... yay!

About 18:00 I arrived home from fake work and re-assumed dad duties and they were pretty good for the majority. Willow decided she would stay awake in my arms - she looked so adorable, staring intently at me, I don't know what she was thinking but I didn't care, she was so alert, so aware, so amazing. It so didn't last.

We tried to get her to bed but she wasn't happy, not only would she not behave for me but she didn't relax listening to her tranquil CD, she wasn't even content with a breastfeed or two. Despite best efforts she was eventually passed to me, and she settled, leaving Charlotte to sleep and me... well, I fell into old habits... POKER!

Ever had your eyeball fingered by your wife at 5am? I was happy to be able to answer this NO until Wednesday 9^th February 2011 occurred.

Willow became self-aware at 5am Greenwich Mean Time, 9^th February 2011. In a panic, I made the fundamental mistake of falling asleep facing my wife, and she had also fallen asleep facing me. I awoke (although I cannot honestly remember if I saw anything) and Charlotte (also waking) outstretched an arm toward me (probably stretching and not realising our positions) and probed one of her fingers into my right eye. It felt like she went in as far as the knuckle. I recoiled in pain, I think I may have even thrown out a swear or two and clasped my eye. It daren't open it for a few seconds; I was genuinely concerned that I might be blind. After a few seconds I opened it, I could see but boy did it hurt. It hurt to open it, hurt to keep it open, hurt to close it, hurt to have my left eye open and right eye closed and hurt at all other times too. I would apologise for the repetition of the word hurt but I think it's important you feel it with me. My aching eye continued to ache for the next while.

I wanted to help with the nappy change but figured sight would be quite crucial while attempting that task. Instead, I blindly wandered from the bedroom, to the bathroom and returned with some warm water for a change of nappy.

Not long after I figure I must have conked out due to the pain and at the 7am feed I rolled over the cuddle my wife, at the same time she was adjusting her position and elbowed my left cheek. This was less severe than the first attack (which still hurt - and still aches a little while I type this blog) but none-the-less was very undeserved in my opinion. Charlotte apologised and eventually we moved on.

We had guests due at 11am and begrudgingly I held Willow in my arms while Charlotte tidied and had breakfast. I of course decided this was the perfect time for which to play some online poker, and came 2^nd, which was good for me - Charlotte tried to share my feelings of success but I knew she didn't understand.

There I sat in bed, cradling my daughter in my arms while she drifted in and out of consciousness occasionally staring up at me. I must remember this moment, I said to myself, remember this when she is screaming and I can do nothing about it and remember that this is worth every cry and moan.

Our friends Becky and Chris arrived and witnessed an extremely awake Willow. She had not properly slept since 9am and continued not to sleep until about 7pm. During this time she wasn't a pleasant little angel, she was a monster. Our soothing tactics only worked for so long, including breast feeding which used to be the ultimate settling tool. We danced, we sang, we watched music television, we jumped around, we rocked, we jiggled, we fed, and fed.... and fed! But nothing, nothing would send her to sleep and when each thing failed (be it after 1 minute or ten seconds) she wailed, and wailed and wailed. Nappy changes, outfit changes, removing layers, adding layers, changing holding positions, ignoring her... none of it worked.

We decided a couple of hours later (after Becky cooking our lunch and Charlotte and I taking it in turns to eat ours while the other distracted Willow) to go for our first walk, with the push-chair-pram-all-in-one beast. It was assembled and readyish to go. All we needed to do was inflate the tyres. Of course, this would have been simple had all the inner tubes been in good condition. The back left inner tube decided it would inflate unevenly making the all-in-one a little unsteady at times and always pulling to the left. I felt a complaint letter coming on but we had no time. We were off.

Some children fall asleep while going to walks right? Not Willow... sigh. She didn't scream or cry, which was great, instead she stayed wide awake - amazed by the entire thing and remain motionless and subdued until we arrived home where she continued to wind us up by not settling. I'm not too proud to admit that I didn't think I could handle much more and found myself, once again, entirely frustrated at a baby. I remained partially calm, but mostly not and of course, on reflection, hate myself once more for losing my rag. That doesn't mean I'm going to apologise to the person who took the brunt of my frustration - the man on the end of the phone from BT Credit Card, who would not credit my £1 overcharge. Bastard. He deserved my scorn, as did the online complaints wizard which received angrily typed words by my fingers alone - the online complaints wizard which I think related to BT Home Phone as opposed to Credit Card so will fall on deaf eyes. But never mind, I felt better after I vented.

Eventually Willow crashed out about 7pm; once she woke once more she behaved relatively well (in so much that she was on occasion soothed by the boob - and in their right mind - who isn't?).

Day Nine

I'll be honest with you, I honestly don't know what happened on day ten... it's more of a blur than days two to six. Charlotte's mum visited and I went to the dentist - but that's all I remember... so I won't dwell.

Day Ten

Ah, Tuesday, glorious Tuesday.

It started with a bang... well, with a bottom bang anyway. Charlotte had the 4am feed slot covered perfectly allowing for me to intermittently drop off and wake, snuggling up to Charlotte who was sitting up in bed, tired and looking after our precious daughter. It was about 7am where I was called into action... nappy changing dad to the rescue. My eyes ached and I felt like there was no way I could physically move, yet I agreed that I would indeed drag my sorry butt out of bed and change Willow's nappy. Of course, I fell back asleep and then when prompted (probably for the third or so time) eventually stumbled toward the bathroom to get some warm water for bum cleaning.

Now, I'm not trying to boast but I think I have this nappy changing business down to a fine art. This of course is a fine art where the final result is good... not necessarily the method. If you watched me change a baby you might well think, "what in the hell is he doing?" but once you see the fully clothed, clean and happy daughter - you'll be most impressed.

The day progressed and we were visited by Bee, Davy and one of their daughters, Laura (still very much a baby but walking around and at least twice as big as Willow). It was nice to see where Willow was headed; fundamentally I'm looking forward to her being able to support her own head properly, crawl and walk around and have some basic understanding of how to behave. I shouldn't wish it away, people say, but seriously she can stay 1 for 1 and a half years if she wants, I just want her to be 6 months old now!

Once our guests had parted (not before of course furnishing us with gifts... yay!) I had a task. To travel to the nearest town and buy some breast pads! I had a sub-task to pay in my first royalty cheque for my collection of short stories (5Hit Stories) but this was exactly that, a sub-task. I'm a father first, husband second and author third. In fact, I'm probably an employee third and being an author is slowly slumping its way back to the bottom of the pile. I digress... I was in search of breast pads. Missing cycling 8 miles to work (well, not entirely missing all 8 miles but the nice down hill chunks are fun) I decided to ditch the car (not literally of course) and cycle a mere 3 miles to the nearest town.

Boots was on the agenda for breast pads. The Chemist brand did not stock the correct ones, and neither did the High Street store. Some time later I emerged with different branded but hopefully satisfactory breast pads - I was of course waiting for an opportunity to make a joke that the breast pads were for me and not my wife but it didn't present itself and that's probably for the best. Asking the sonographer if we could 'sonograph' my tummy did not go down well, on any of the 7 appointments - still, once an idiot, always an idiot right?

The evening and night panned out without much incident but nothing was to prepare me for the beginning of the following day. If someone had told me that was what was going to happen - I'd have slept downstairs...

Today I woke with renewed enthusiasm, admittedly this didn't mean that I was unexplainably tired at the 7am feed and the simple task of changing a nappy was just too much, but I did it. Willow settled relatively easily during most feeds but not the 9:30am one. I shoved breakfast down my throat, jumped in the car and drove to Tesco to swap the erroneous breakfast bars and leaky Huggies nappies. The helpful ladies at Tesco were exactly that and I was able to make the trades easily, even including a little bit of Huggies bashing as they themselves were Pampers fans!

I arrived home and Charlotte was busy breastfeeding... this was my chance, I told myself, and I fled downstairs to write the card I had purchased yesterday and put the card and present in the mail catcher.

Not long after that, Charlotte's Auntie Lynne, Lynne's partner Rod and Charlotte's Granny Cathy arrived for their first visit since Willow's arrival. Charlotte meanwhile was upstairs still taking part in a mammoth hour long feed. Tea was made and eventually Charlotte appeared and the gang were introduced to a very subdued Willow. Charlotte found the card and present but decided she would open it later - and a good job too as it was a little soppy and likely to cause a sob or too from us both. Lynne and Rod are photographers, complete with confusing camera's and equipment and started taking snaps of the little lady, more so with me, more so because I was changing her lovely smelling nappy and trying to comfort her.

A few hours passed, including lunch, LOTS of tears from an unsettled Willow, more feeding and more photos and the gang departed.

Not long after Charlotte opened her card and present, and my desire was fulfilled, she was extremely touched and cried happy tears. We cuddled and kissed and cuddled some more. I needed her to know how much I love her, how amazing she is with our daughter and how sorry I am that I'm on occasion a grumpy, impatient little prick for no good reason.

It then transpired that I figured I deserved a break from all the business of the day (that and I was feeling a little under the weather) and so Charlotte made me a cup of tea and I crashed out on the sofa, under a blanket, drifting in and out of consciousness watching the recording of the Wales versus England rugby game. The break from responsibility felt good and I took that feeling to bed with me and slept with ease... until I was woken of course.

Saturday started badly, Willow was relatively well behaved in that when she woke, she was fed and went back to sleep. The alarm went off at 07:30 reminding me that should I feel up for it I could run at 5k run with Big E... I didn't feel up for it, so I didn't get up.

Then about 09:30 Charlotte, who had been up off and on since 07:00 reminded me that she wanted me to go to Southampton to pick up some bits and her friends would soon arrive so could I do it. Feeling harassed I grumpily... scratch that... EXTREMELY grumpily got myself ready to jump in the car and go shopping. Included in this behaviour included not making eye contact with Charlotte, being short with her and answering her questions. I gave her a peck goodbye and as she asked me what was wrong I told her I felt harassed. This was just enough to upset her, and as she broke eye contact I knew that she was likely to cry any second and I could only think one thing... what a cock I am. I apologised, and apologised and apologised once more, gave her a kiss. She apologised for harassing me and explained that she didn't mean to and I knew that, I knew everything, I knew that the only reason I get grumpy is because I'm tired and have little-to-no patience when at home. It's ridiculous, I'm Mr. Polite at work, even when I'm being treated like shit and yet I behave so moodily when I'm at home... why can I do it there but not at home? I left the house feeling disappointed at myself, again, for the umpteenth time this week.

In the car to the shops, walking around the shops and in the car on the way back home I repeated this phrase over and over again, hoping it would sink in. I'm better than this, I can do better than this, my wife and daughter deserve a better husband and father. I had had an idea a while back and decided today would be the day to follow through with the idea. I would buy Charlotte a card, and write her a message in it from Willow, and also buy her a present. I got a 'It's a Girl' card and the new Bruno Mars album, Charlotte expressed much interest in it a while ago and this was a nugget of information I had managed to retain.

As soon as I got home I apologised to Charlotte, I asked her not to respond, not to acknowledge, not to excuse my behaviour, not to tell me it was okay or defend me - just accept my apology and know that from now on I planned to be a better man for us all.

Minutes after, Charlotte's friends Claire and Tony and their children Jake (aged 2) and Leah (aged 1) arrived for a visit. During the visit Willow behaved like a perfect baby, only waking for feeding and not crying, it was a wonderful example of what wonderful parents we were... well, it gave that impression anyway. We conversed, watched most of Kung Fu Panda and played games. It was an extremely pleasant afternoon.

Later that evening our friend Anna and Anna's mum visited, bearing gifts including home-made chilli (we weren't finding it difficult to cook meals but already cooked meals were fantastic!).

They left and it was time for me to once more regress and become a grumpy frustrated prick time for a few more hours due to an unsettled daughter, again going through from angry, to frustrated, to frustrated at myself, to disappointed at myself, to being moody and annoyed.

Being a father was as tough as I thought it would be, but I wasn't dealing with it as well as I thought I would and that was the hardest part of it all. I'd let myself down and subsequently was letting down my wife and daughter, I needed to get my act together and toughen up. I just hoped I could nip this in the bud.

Day One - Sleep the good sleep

Willow slept for three solid hours, until about 3am where we treated with a poo filled nappy delight. She napped for a little while longer but soon stirred at 4am and decided to stay awake being cuddled by Charlotte all the while. We weren't exhausted just yet. Another nappy change later and she was ready for another feed. She fell asleep on Charlotte, and soon after Charlotte also dozed off with Willow safely resting on her chest. For the next two hours I kept watch, making sure Willow was breathing while I let Charlotte snooze. Then I was treated to a cuddle and eventually she slept again for a whole two hours.

Aside from a visit from our friend JC, the day was relatively relaxed, filled with lots of wet and dirty nappies, a few tears and an extreme amount of breast feeding. The midwife visited and all seemed well, all felt well, things were going great... maybe parenting isn't as tough as we were informed.

Day Two - Six - It's all a blur

Day's two to six are much of a blur at the moment, my desire to spend half an hour to an hour every day updating this 'journey' has been hit and miss to say the least. While my days are filled with some spare time, it's generally time I want to spend relaxing... or time I spend tidying! Should I get comfortable typing with one hand then I'll have some time to upload while rocking my daughter to sleep - although that would leave me with less time to hone my online poker skills. I'll try my best to backtrack but it's decidedly tricky. Of course, if I consulted with the wife she'd be able to tell me exactly what we did and what time we did it.

My mum paid a visit for a few hours and she brought home-made casserole with dumplings - excellent work. She had her cuddles and a few pictures taken and although she was here for a few hours it didn't seem like very long at all.

I rose early, well, early enough to be back for 11am and journeyed to Tesco to purchase all important nipple protectors which can help with breastfeeding. Willow LOVED Charlotte's left nipple but the right she wasn't so confident on, we had been told nipple protectors were the way forward so nipple protectors I purchased.

Our friends Helen, Pete and their son Joey visited, furnishing us with many many gifts including lots of chocolates! Our midwife visited (she was also Helen and Pete's midwife), weighed Willow and checked to make sure everything was going swimmingly and give or take a few niggles it was.

Wednesday started difficultly, in the early hours of the morning Willow was not behaving like the daughter I had experienced over the last few days. She was grumpy, crying, inconsolable, fidgety and NOTHING I did settled her. I found myself getting frustrated and annoyed with her, losing patience within a few minutes and well snapping, raising my voice and generally mirroring the mood of my daughter. Any patience I thought I had had gone and it was only Charlotte who could help. A fact which didn't help my mood at all. I remember walking into the bathroom and looking at myself in the mirror and thinking, "you absolute arsehole". There she was, my daughter, only four days old and there I am, 27 years old and losing my rag with her. And why was I losing my rag? Because I couldn't control her, couldn't soothe her, felt like a failed father but the real failure wasn't not being able to calm her down, but not being able to remain calm. I did, and do now, feel extremely disappointed in my behaviour. I'm better than this; I told myself and tried to believe it but couldn't get out of my slump.

Charlotte did her best to reassure me it was okay, it was understandable, but it didn't help. I needed to snap out of it, grow a pair of balls and use my patience and tolerance.

Charlotte's mum arrived for a proper visit later that morning and I decided to take it upon myself to go for a 9 mile cycle, dropping in some paperwork to the doctor's surgery on my outing. The cycle was hard but it felt good to get out of the house (a luxury poor Charlotte had yet to experience). It also felt good to be exercising again, so much so that I went for a 3 mile run a little later that day with my house mate.

I can do this, I can be better, I will be better, Charlotte and Willow deserve better and that's what I will be - at least that was the plan

Thursday is more of a blur than the other days, Charlotte's ex-colleague Cookie visited and brought gifts! Our midwife visited and gave us a clean bill of health. Willow was gaining weight and her change in habits could be due to a growth spurt.

My eldest brother Alexis visited bringing even more gifts (very spoilt we were and still are). At some stage, Willow began to cry, and continued to do so no matter what I did. Alexis scooped her up from me and within a minute she had settled, leaving me feeling like a pathetic loser. A father who couldn't stop his daughter crying when a relative stranger to her could do so almost instantly. Perhaps his patience helped but the only person who could tell you why is a little too young to describe it!

Luckily I think Willow knew I needed to laugh, and laugh I did. While changing her nappy, I of course was revealing her bottom to the world. Without warning her bottom erupted and poo came out (reminding me of sausages being made) but luckily enough I still had the nappy in place to shield me and catch the excrement. She stopped and I waited a good minute for the coast to be clear. As I lowered the nappy she knew her chance was there and BAM, she pooed once more, squirting it over my hand, my little angel, I thought.

A different midwife visited to check all was well with mummy, a refreshing change and a little while later a few of Charlotte's ex-colleagues arrived for a cup of tea and a catch up and of course a glimpse of our newborn. Of course my new persona kicked in. Around strangers I had to appear strong and in control and fortunately Willow behaved almost perfectly, with only a few grumbles.

Later that evening Charlotte noticed a rash on Willow's face, a small ring of red in one place and another blotch of red in another. Meningitis, we both thought, I tried not to worry, but as each moment passed and the rash did not disappear, I worried. I calmly found the Meningitis leaflet (under direction of course) and we checked the symptoms. She had a least three of them including cold hands and feet. I dug out a shot glass from the cupboard and rolled it over the rash, it didn't disappear under pressure so I picked up the phone and called the labour ward, who put me in touch with the on call team and eventually we received a call back from one of the on call doctors. She was brilliant, asking me lots of simple questions, listening to my responses and providing clear advice. She wasn't concerned (especially as the rash seemed to be fading) but said she would call back within the hour to check again, and she did, by which time the rash had all but gone and we were relaxed.

Relaxed enough to sleep (all of us) and sleep well!

Day Zero... still

It was extremely easy to forget we had just had a child and she was living in our house with us because she was quiet... almost too quiet. Perhaps she'll be a quiet baby, I hoped.

We had unpacked and settled Willow into her Moses basket, and there she remained settled - for hours. She stirred occasionally but remained asleep until later that evening, we attempted (and by we of course I mean Charlotte) to breastfeed Willow but she just wasn't interested - was the first time in the hospital a fluke? Were we destined to go against our plan and opt for the bottle over the breast?

Charlotte's mum, Sarah, arrived in the late afternoon and stayed for a few hours, all of which Willow remained entirely unphased by the noise around her. The television was on, we were conversing, the phone was ringing, the cats were chasing each other around the house and yet Willow ignored it all.

It took awhile (probably longer than it should) to realise that as new born babies go through on average 10 nappies a day, and Willow had not had a nappy change EVER that perhaps it was time to put on the cap of bravery, roll up the sleeves and try not to look stupid trying to clean shit off of your baby's bottom for the first time. Of course, I only had Charlotte to feel stupid in front of but it was still a little daunting.

We prepared the area, put on our bravest faces and... it wasn't too bad actually. I was witness to my first meconium (very dark faeces) and while I knew that it was sterile and it didn't smell, it was very thick, gooey and just a little grim. A few tears later (and some from Willow) and we were clean, with a new nappy on, and back in the Moses basket for more sleep - what an angel I had in front of me.

An hour or so later we were treated to a visit from Cath (Charlotte's friend) who against logic, decided she would spend the night... I very much doubted she would get any sleep but that was her choice.

A little while later and Big E (our friend/tenant - in that order) arrived home and I swiftly turned him around and encouraged him to take me to the Chinese Take-Away to get dinner... cooking seemed a little too much effort and what better way to celebrate than with our favourite take-away.

The evening was getting on and a side from one nappy change and one feed, Willow was still pretty comatose, so much so that every now and then Charlotte or I would have to poke her to make sure she was still responsive and breathing - each time she was, and each time we had a lovely wave of relief. Of course, concern was growing due to the lack of interest in breastfeeding.

Finally, at just before 11pm Willow had her first breastfeed at home, and it was glorious. We were both overjoyed and I shared the relief with Big E and Cath. Seeing my wife and daughter cuddling, content with one another, was spectacular. Mother Nature at its best and most simple.

Without much fuss I changed Willow's nappy, pooh-free and full of urine, and put her into her crib for the first time. She wriggled, twitched and slowly but surely, fell into a deep sleep.

I can do this, I thought, this is easy.

My brother Stuart arrived, taking a short break from a stag do, but was denied entrance. The midwife who denied him entrance attempted to find our midwife to see if entry could be permitted, meanwhile I waited outside with him until access was denied or granted. We embraced, he presented me with flowers (for Charlotte of course, although they were lovely!) and I showed him some pictures on our digital camera. Clearly he was chuffed, as was I of course. After a few minutes the same midwife came back and said that she was sure it was okay, she couldn't find our midwife but allowed him in anyway (seemed to me like the whole thing seemed a little pointless but who am I to argue?).

Stuart cuddled my wife and looked at our daughter, his only niece thus far, and adored her as much as we did. Within a few minutes he had his first cuddle, she was very much at ease in his arms and continued to sleep - she had after all been through a very traumatic experience - all of which by the way I captured on my phone... most will be glad to know this footage will not be for public release.

An hour or so later the paediatrician and student arrived and gave Willow a human MOT (that's right, I'm choosing to write 'a' human rather than 'an' human... while it may be grammatically correct it just doesn't sound right...). She passed the check; one of the criteria was to make her cry... I wanted to thump them but decided this wouldn't be productive nor helpful.

With the all clear given from the midwife as well, Stuart packed the car, installed the car seat and we made our way out. It was bitterly cold outside but Willow cared not. We said goodbye to Stuart and went in our separate directions... slowly... very slowly. I'm a cautious driver by nature, even more so with my girls in the car with me. With a controlled reverse out of the car park we were on our way home, together, as a family. Again, a few more tears sporadically came to my eyes on the way home with the realisation of our changed situation, while we knew it was going to be tough, we were overjoyed with how it had all been so far and looking forward to flooding Willow with love and devotion.

On arrival home we unloaded the car, we had packed for EVERY possible scenario... and 75% of what we had taken was not used or required - this included but is not limited to:

Two bags of food and drink

Swimming outfits ready for a water birth

Dressing gowns and overnight clothes for Charlotte including blankets

Camcorder - unused :(

Multiple baby outfits and clothes for me

We took Willow upstairs, still sat in her car seat and placed her on the landing. Pickle (one of our kittens) inquisitively wandered up the stairs, saw Willow, shit herself (not literally) and ran half way down the stairs. She was stood completely still, staring up at me with a bushy tail and an expression which clearly stated, "What the fuck is that?" In between laughter I noticed Pickle had dug deep to find courage and cautiously made her way back to 'the thing'. Wiley (the other kitten) bounded up the stairs, saw Willow and went to have a closer look - clearly not as petrified as young Pickle.

Unbeknownst to Wiley and Pickle, Charlotte was getting into the shower and as she turned the water on an almighty gush of water sent fear shooting through their system and they ran as fast and as hard as they could away from Willow. Only a few hours old and she was already creating amusement for me and inspiring me without even trying... just imagine what she will do when she tries.

Saturday 29th January 2011

09:30 - Willow, not one hour, old decided she was hungry. She gracefully crawled up Charlotte's chest and over to her nipple and latched on. She fed for half an hour or so, off and on of course, stopping to take deep breaths. She was so delicate that Charlotte couldn't feel her.

We then started contacting family members about the birth, making the announcement semi-official. One my my brothers, who was on a stag do, congratulated me... then 10 minutes later called to say he was on his way!

Now, is where the story turns a little... a fascinating mix of amazement and horror.

10:45 - the times from now on are approximates, I stopped keeping track of times once I had a face of wonderment and bemusement - a face that stayed for a while. It first appeared when Nicola and Holly delivered the placenta... now, this is going to sound a little horrid but I thought it was fantastic. If you have never seen a placenta delivered (and why would you unless you've been at a birth) then I will describe it as best as possible. Imagine a blood red branch of a tree about as think as your arm with veins running on the outside - now you've got that image, imagine it being teased out of your wife's delicate area - already traumatised by birth. Charlotte told me off for 'pulling faces' but it was so hard not to, it was the 2nd most amazing thing I'd ever seen and probably the 2nd most disgusting also. I guess I was, and still am, blown away by the fact that that was keeping my daughter alive, that Charlotte's body just created it for one purpose only and then got rid of it as soon as it was no longer required. Once out, it sort of unrolled and looked like a seal-fresh bag filled with really disgusting bloody bits... MOVE ON... I hear you say, but don't be in too much of a hurry for me to move on... the next bit will make you squirm... especially the ladies that have been there before, or will be there soon or... in fact it will make you all squirm I think.

Following childbirth Charlotte had grazes to the inside of her vagina and a tear on the bottom of her vagina - apparently it was only a 1st degree tear, which is the lowest. We know people who have had 3rd degree tears so trust me when I say Charlotte was lucky! Nicola offered Charlotte Gas and Air while she started to stitch. I thought, yeah that sounds like a great idea... Charlotte thought, 'well, I got this far without anything, so I'll just have some local anaesthetic please' so that's what she had. With a series of injections directly into her delicates, Nicola began to stitch... and I couldn't not see could I. Again appeared the shocked/horrified/amazed face, and again I was told off so I kept a straight face on the outside and a contorted one on the inside.

The local anaesthetic was good, but not good enough as Charlotte could feel the pulling of the needle and thread through her lady bits. With each stitch Charlotte squeezed my hand tightly. Clearly upset with herself she said, and I quote, "I'm sorry,"... "why are you sorry?" Nicola asked... "I just gave birth and now I'm in pain because of some stitches" she replied... what a champ - apologising for being in pain - even though she wasn't making a sound, my heroine.

I continued to watch as Nicola 'tidied' Charlotte's privates - that's how she put it anyway - this would include taking out a stitch as she was not happy with it and starting again, and realising she hadn't numbed one of the areas and couldn't give Charlotte any more pain relief so Charlotte had to grin and bear it. I continued to watch with guilt-ridden delight until Charlotte was 'back to normal'.

After some recovery Charlotte was escorted to the bathroom to get freshened up.

It was my turn now, unable to assist much during the birth (a side from giving encouragement of course) I could now shine, I was given the sole responsibility of 'dressing' Willow. An easy task right? WRONG! I had lots of choices, that was the problem, which outfit would Charlotte like best... I couldn't decide - so did nothing for a little while, Willow all the while doing absolutely nothing... quiet baby, I hoped it would last.

Charlotte returned from her shower looking fabulous, I had chosen what I deemed the most appropriate outfit... including a hat which was far too big and made Willow look like a baby pope. We relaxed in the room and sent out notifications of the birth of our daughter to everyone else. While drafting the text message we kept welling up every now and then, then as the text message replies flooded in the tears continued. Charlotte and I would attempt to read the messages to each other congratulating us but only a few words in our delicate states led to more tears and paused speech, we've never felt so happy to feel so silly.