So here I am at Leeds General Infirmary with my wife gently snoring to my right and our beef-pink, 19-and-a-half-hour old daughter snuffling as she sleeps on my chest. So far, so blissful.
The big meeting between J-Bruv and Daffodil will be later this afternoon, with Grandpa thrown in for good measure. First time around, due to the number of friends we had working near (and indeed in) St Mary’s hospital in Manchester, J-Bud had already seen a dozen visitors by now, but so far, it’s just been the three of us.
One day on, after a longer delivery process than we would have liked, everything is going smoothly. Combined with the fact that Mabli is ticking all the boxes so far and no one has been stabbing at her tiny heels trying to get a cannula in, the previous knowledge of what it is to have a baby has made the whole experience so much easier.
However, one thing has meant the post-partum process has been a bit more exhausting and sleep-deprived than it needed to be: the NHS policies on co-sleeping.
Nothing is as guaranteed to fire up the hackles and twitchforks or raise the portcullis than ideas about keeping tiny children safe. However, I completely understand that an institution the size of the NHS has to play the numbers game and draft policies along the lines of what research suggests. If research suggests co-sleeping has a greater chance, statistically, of harming newborn and tiny babies, then it makes to officially dissuade people from doing it.
On the other hand, the fact that haven’t worried about giving Daffodil some formula in addition to boob to stop her getting hungry has definitely eased the beginning of our family life together. Babies howling with hunger do in the heads of sleep-deprived parents who are already suffering from wobbly judgment. Likewise, a snooze with your baby helps with all kinds of bonding and allows parents to rest and recover at the same time.
We need to get home and get Beef into a bedroom environment. Crack open our lovely bedside cot.
We’ll let you know how we get on.