Respect the parents
A father's goodness is higher than the mountains; a mother's goodness is deeper than the sea.
I stumble across this Japanese proverb while searching for inspiration. My creative well has run, if not dry, then a little on the thirsty side of late; the product, no doubt, of too much to do, too little time in which to do it, and not enough sleep to boot.
My daughter, Hannah Kerenza, was born on 12 March this year. The birth of a first child is reputed to be the happiest time of a parent's life. Alas, for me, I cannot say that was the case. Hannah was a fortnight overdue causing my wife, Carla, to be induced. The induction failed and, after a day's labour, Carla was wheeled to theatre for an emergency caesarian. I shall spare you the gruesome details but she suffered a major bleed - losing over six pints of blood in less than three minutes - and necessitating an emergency transfusion. As befits anyone with a blood pressure of 45/30, her life hung in the balance for a while, and I will never forget placing the 'phone call to her father to advise him of the position. Happily, mother has recovered fully and Hannah was never in distress.
At such times, it is important to be able to rely on friends, family and colleagues. My friends and family were magnificent. My colleagues took the opportunity to oust me from the partnership in which I had worked for nine years. When I asked for a reason, I was told by the messenger (who professed to come as a friend) that he was not there to be interrogated. But that is another story.
The point I am labouring (please forgive the pun) to make is that having a child is not easy. And the delivery is only the beginning. A fortnight ago, we went to a lovely lunch with some other mums and dads we had met on the NCT course. Within 48 hours, 12 of the 15 present were ill. Most of us recovered within a day or two. Hannah was ill with D&V for 10 days. A stool sample confirmed salmonella poisoning.
There was no prospect of her being able to go to nursery while she was unwell. We had to be full-time parents. Needless to say, the period of illness coincided with my first week's office work for almost eight months. As deputy coroner (see earlier blog) I was simply not able to take a few days off. My wife, as a GP in a local surgery, was similarly committed. It is a big deal to cancel a day's appointments. To cancel two weeks worth is just not possible. And so we worked as best we could with our parents helping out while dealing with a poorly baby who needed changing and hydrating several times a night.
I said we were full-time parents; clearly we were not. Both Carla and I went to work.
I look now with fresh eyes on one-parent families. I have a very different response when I see a mum struggling with multiple children than was the case when I was a singleton. I have an inkling as to the effort that goes in to being a mother or a father. I know the frustration, the fatigue and I can begin to understand what, on occasions, becomes the desperation.
Respect the parents.
I stumble across this Japanese proverb while searching for inspiration. My creative well has run, if not dry, then a little on the thirsty side of late; the product, no doubt, of too much to do, too little time in which to do it, and not enough sleep to boot.
My daughter, Hannah Kerenza, was born on 12 March this year. The birth of a first child is reputed to be the happiest time of a parent's life. Alas, for me, I cannot say that was the case. Hannah was a fortnight overdue causing my wife, Carla, to be induced. The induction failed and, after a day's labour, Carla was wheeled to theatre for an emergency caesarian. I shall spare you the gruesome details but she suffered a major bleed - losing over six pints of blood in less than three minutes - and necessitating an emergency transfusion. As befits anyone with a blood pressure of 45/30, her life hung in the balance for a while, and I will never forget placing the 'phone call to her father to advise him of the position. Happily, mother has recovered fully and Hannah was never in distress.
At such times, it is important to be able to rely on friends, family and colleagues. My friends and family were magnificent. My colleagues took the opportunity to oust me from the partnership in which I had worked for nine years. When I asked for a reason, I was told by the messenger (who professed to come as a friend) that he was not there to be interrogated. But that is another story.
The point I am labouring (please forgive the pun) to make is that having a child is not easy. And the delivery is only the beginning. A fortnight ago, we went to a lovely lunch with some other mums and dads we had met on the NCT course. Within 48 hours, 12 of the 15 present were ill. Most of us recovered within a day or two. Hannah was ill with D&V for 10 days. A stool sample confirmed salmonella poisoning.
There was no prospect of her being able to go to nursery while she was unwell. We had to be full-time parents. Needless to say, the period of illness coincided with my first week's office work for almost eight months. As deputy coroner (see earlier blog) I was simply not able to take a few days off. My wife, as a GP in a local surgery, was similarly committed. It is a big deal to cancel a day's appointments. To cancel two weeks worth is just not possible. And so we worked as best we could with our parents helping out while dealing with a poorly baby who needed changing and hydrating several times a night.
I said we were full-time parents; clearly we were not. Both Carla and I went to work.
I look now with fresh eyes on one-parent families. I have a very different response when I see a mum struggling with multiple children than was the case when I was a singleton. I have an inkling as to the effort that goes in to being a mother or a father. I know the frustration, the fatigue and I can begin to understand what, on occasions, becomes the desperation.
Respect the parents.
posted by Andy at 7:57 AM
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