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The Reason Why


Nothing to do with interior design, décor, furniture refurbishment, construction or anything else really … i just wanted to write the whole story down while it was still fresh & I remembered all the details.

Our little girl (Harper Lee Walsh) was born on Friday 09th December 2016 at 11:49pm and it was the best day of my life so far.

But it was by no means a stroll in the park.

Saying Harper Lee caused us quite a bit of stress over the course of that day, night and all of the first weekend of her life is an understatement.

To start with she was coming up to a week overdue and my partner Cheryl was getting cranky with her unwillingness to vacate the premises.

Now Cheryl's usually a fairly cool, calm and collected character, but she a narky one over those last few weeks.

On Thursday, the 08th December at just before midnight she started getting contractions.

"Fuck me Wayne - these are starting to get sore"

We didn't freak because we'd had a few false starts over the previous weeks and every time the good ship incontinence raised its windy sails and some stomach cramps started we had thought it was go time!

But nope – buby seemed cozy inside and had no intentions of handing in her notice at any stage (which was slowly driving Cheryl crAzY).

Personally I think Cheryl was just over it by then and even though she was in love with having Harper Lee develope and grow inside of her, she very much wanted her out because an eight pounder moving around inside you has to be a tad on the uncomfortable side.

So from Thursday the 08th at around midnight until the following morning Cheryl slept on and off being woken at stages with demonic stomach cramps - the warm up for the main event.

I called my boss Friday morning at 7am and filled him in on the details of the night before and said "we may be on for the big show, but after the last few times we're not getting our hopes up".

Around mid-day Friday we knew for sure it wasn't another trial run and she was soon going to be making her grand entrance.

Until pretty much 5pm that day the contractions were manageable (well I think they were – what do I know?) and Cheryl was suffering through them and even trying to do some housework (no shit).

But after 5pm they got a lot stronger and we decided to call the midwife.