Toni’s Blog

    When you bring a longed for child into the world your hopes and dreams soar.  The future is filled with joy and happiness.  But for Alex and I our dreams were to fade all too soon...

Christmas Story

As Christmas draws closer I try hard to stop myself looking back to the same time four years ago.  Yet remembering brings me a joy that helps to ease the dreadful pain in my heart.  It seems so long ago, and yet those four years have passed all too quickly.

My story begins on Christmas Eve, the day which marked the beginning of the sweetest, saddest time of my whole life...

Alex had been out shopping most of the morning.  It had been snowing hard and he’d refused to let me go with him.

“No, darling,” he’d said firmly when I protested about staying home.  “The pavements are too slippery, and with our baby due in two months time I don’t want anything to happen to you.  There isn’t much to get anyway, only last minute things.”

I’d relented eventually and given Alex a list of forgotten items.  It was to be our last Christmas as a couple, next year we’d be buying cuddly toys and lots of baby things.  The thought filled me with happiness as I sat by the open log fire waiting for Alex to come home.

So far our lives together had been wonderful.  We’d saved hard and bought our own home, then we’d saved some more and got the furniture we wanted.  It had been so much fun, and it still was.  Now the only thing we wanted was our precious baby.  The baby we’d planned so excitedly for.

“Polly, I’m home,” Alex called from the kitchen.

I went out just in time to see him brush the snowflakes from his shoulders.

“Good job you didn’t come with me,” he said as he kissed me.  “It’s murder in the shops and the sky’s heavy with more snow.”

“A white Christmas,” I said, gazing out of the window.  “Oh, I wish our baby could see it.”

“He will next year,” Alex said confidently.  “I’ll put in a special order for it now, so’s no one will forget.”

“Idiot!” I whispered, hugging him.

We stood for a moment, our arms around each other, savouring the joy of our love.  We had so much to live for, so much to look forward to...

It was later that night I got the sneaking feeling our baby might just see this white Christmas after all.  We were sitting in the glow of the fire watching the carol service on television when I felt a niggly pain in my back.

When the feeling became uncomfortable I moved and Alex was immediately concerned.

“Stop fussing, dad-to-be,” I teased.  “I was probably just sitting awkward.”

I wriggled into a better position, but a little while later another niggly pain made itself known.  It was sharper this time and I suppose, like most women, I just knew our baby was ready to be born.

“But it’s too early, Polly,” Alex exclaimed with alarm.  “It’s only been seven months!  Oh, God, what are we going to do?”

I felt nervous myself, but I couldn’t help laughing.  Poor Alex, he’d talked so much about how calm he’d be, how he’d stay with me to help me through the birth.  Yet when he rang the hospital I couldn’t help noticing his hand was shaking.

That night was the longest of my whole life.  Alex stayed by my side, a worried expression creasing his brow every time a pain gripped me.

My doctor had assured us both that a premature baby need not be a cause for concern.  They were ready and able to cope, and anyway, it was a whole year since they’d had a Christmas baby on the ward and everyone was excited at the prospect.

His words comforted me, and as dawn broke on that snowy Christmas morning, our son uttered his first cry.

“Let’s call him Noel,” I said as we gazed down at the tiny wrinkled face of our child.

“Yes, I like that,” Alex agreed.  “Very appropriate.”

A moment later the nurse whisked him away to the safety of the incubator where he was to spend the first few weeks of his life.  He was so small and so fragile, but he was alive and he was ours...

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