thoughts on returning home
Oscar came home to us on what was his planned delivery date. A day shy of 36 weeks. And a day shy of a month he’d been with us.
It was also the winter solstice – the turn of the year, the step into the new, the arrival of light. I liked that. A good day to come home.
As we loaded the three of them in to the car outside the hospital I thought dear god that’s a lot of children across the back seat.
The first night we lit the fire, lit the tree and watched a movie all five of us on the sofa with hot chocolate and dinner on our laps. The kids held Oscar.
The next morning I was finally able to give in and let go. Go no where. Lie in bed with no energy to do anything much at all, watching the bluetits and the robins on the winter trees and the light shifting and lifting the field of yellow hay. Oscar on my chest, a velvety-warm squirming bundle.
It is midday. I’ll get up now any minute.
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Life is not quiet with three children and you never have two hands. After a month in an incubator and a crib Oscar has got a taste for being held and likes it very much. His little dead-weight belly lies against mine as I write this and there is a dusting of icing sugar through his blonde hair from the mince pie I’m attempting to one handedly eat.
He must stay away from visitors for awhile, so I am spending quite a lot of time in the bedroom while people drop in to say hello. As the nurse said, he’s still supposed to be in the womb, so try to keep your home as close to that for a little while. You’ve got this far, don’t spoil it now.
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Santa, knowing we have some German bits to our Christmas still, drops by on Christmas Eve with glow in the dark pajamas and his magic to light the candles on the tree. We eat the ice cream we forgot to have on Max’s birthday and watch The Snowman in our pjs. Santa one-handedly wraps the remaining bits and bobs (how does one wrap a trampoline?) and drinks a port by the fire before he goes to bed.
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Christmas Day is as it should be. Starting at an ungodly hour there are shrieks from the kids rooms and before I am fully awake I am constructing an elaborate winch and pully system cable car and Brian is building a dolls house with a Bob the Builder attired Martha. Santa had to leave a note explaining that unfortunately her request for ‘A remote control flying dog house with wings’ proved too tricky even for his super talented elves.
Martha spends the rest of the day in a vest and nothing else, we don’t set the table in any fancy way and I play Suspend! with Max, eating in shifts whilst jiggling a windy Oscar. We eat too much Christmas cake and make Lego and build a gingerbread house. I even manage a nap.
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Just to keep things interesting Martha now has a vomiting bug and my tummy feels growly. I hope Oscar stays well.
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Merry Christmas everyone. Life is good.
