I have been following a story in the news that broke last week I believe. A family on holiday in the Algarve, Portugal has had one of their three children, Madeline, almost 4 years old, taken from them. That alone is horrible enough, and I can't imagine the hell they are going through at the moment.but the circumstances surrounding the disappearance are quite astonishing. The couple, Garry and Kate, were out having a meal together at the time while their three children were sleeping. They were having a meal at the place they were staying and were going back to the room to check on their kids every 30 minutes. In one of the periods between them checking, someone obviously went in and took the child.
Predictably, as a new(ish) parent myself, my initial response was anger and I posted on a forum the other day how disgusted I was that they would leave their three children unsupervised and that I wouldn't leave B alone for thirty seconds, let alone thirty minutes. W wrote a response saying sometimes you can't help but leave your child alone sometimes (not, obviously for such a long period of time as mentioned above) as if you didn't you wouldn't get anything done. She told me later that night that she was originally going to post that we have both been guilty in the past of leaving B in our (locked) car when we have gone and paid for petrol. This scared the hell out of me as it just highlights how easy it is to switch off. Leaving her in a locked car is something you perceive as safety, but it only takes a second for a thief to break into a car and drive off with it. I will certainly be more careful about that in the future and, where possible, I will purchase petrol when I am alone (either that or B will come in with me to pay). Knowing her, I doubt it will be long before she wants to hand the money over herself anyway!
As I write this Madeline has still not been found and I am beginning to fear the worst. Whilst I cannot believe the parents could act so irresponsibly, I can't help but feel sorry for them. In their continuing coverage of the story, the media, on one hand echo the sentiments of any parent and are praying for Madeline's safe return. On the other hand, they, along with the correspondence of the general public have been quite damning of the parents' actions. Of course, this is the last thing they need at the moment. I really hope Madeline is found soon, and most important of all, that she is unharmed. However, I can't stop thinking what sort of emotional damage this can do to a young child and her family. This, hopefully, is a wake-up call to any couples that may be guilty of doing something similar with their children. It certainly has been for me.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
One year old - the best day of my life (a time for reflection)
Last Wednesday it was my B's first birthday - I really can't believe it. It's probably the most clichéd of phrases but it's true - the time has absolutely flown by. It really does only seem like yesterday that W and I both went through this crazy experience called childbirth for the first time.
Tuesday April 25th 2006 - I remember waking from sleep somewhere around 6am, but it might have been earlier. W was sitting upright in bed and was wide awake - she clearly had been awake for some time. She said she felt different. Not being the most coherent of people in the morning, I don't think that statement sunk in straight away - after all, there were still a couple of weeks to go until the due date. So I think I possibly mumbled and grunted something in response and rolled over in an attempt to continue my quest to pogo stick around the Antarctic while wearing a pirates uniform with Elijah Wood, Chelsea Clinton and Top Cat as companions. All this while singing the chorus to 'Wake Me Up Before You Go Go.'
Or something.
Still, it wasn't long before I was sat up as well. I made a move to put the laptop on. I figured I might freak one or two people out on a message board I frequent by posting so early. Little did I know I would be doing that later that night for an entirely different reason. I don't think the laptop had even fully booted up before W was dashing to the toilet as her waters were breaking. Now it was definitely happening and the adrenaline kicked in. I rung the hospital and in a relaxed tone (obviously they do this every day), the Nurses on duty told me to bring W down to the maternity unit.
We got ready and I called W's Mum and Sister and here was probably my biggest regret of the whole day. I didn't call my Mum to get her to come down to the hospital as well. I would have loved to celebrate the birth of my first child with her there. Still, there's no use crying over spilt milk and after all, there's always next time. We took the trip down to the hospital (I'm so glad I didn't have to fight the traffic). The labour was quick (apparently it runs in the family and the second one is even quicker) and B was born at 11:47 if memory serves me well. Of course a lot went on in those six hours.
I didn't know what to expect in the months leading up to the birth and I was very nervous as I am queasy. I remember us going into what turned out to be the delivery room (for some reason, I thought we W would give birth in an operating theatre) and hearing a woman next door screaming so loud that I thought she might rip the whole maternity unit from its foundations. All of a sudden I felt very faint and I dashed off to the en-suite toilet, fearing more than anything that I was going to fail W when she needed me most. I thought I was going to be sick so hunched over the toilet in preparation. The irony didn’t escape me at all. There’s W, about to give birth and she’s worried and asking me if I’m alright
I wasn’t sick though, and to my complete amazement I got over it and was able to quickly regain my place at W's side. That's where I stayed as well for the duration - save for the occasional trip to shout at incompetent nurses who seemed to be oblivious to my calls for drugs. I can only assume that they thought there would be hours of labour left and there were other people more in need of urgent attention. Certainly for me, that part of it was more stressful than it should have been so god knows what it was like for W. We’ll certainly bear that in mind when choosing a hospital next time around. I continued to be as supportive to W as I could be and in fact, I was surprised how strong I was being.
Seeing the head beginning to come out was an amazing experience and another thing that I thought I would be too queasy to look at. However, I passed with flying colours. I was almost infatuated, probably because I knew my child had almost arrived in the world. When you consider how long it took to get to that point, the next part up until when B was born was like a 100-meter sprint.
Our daughter had arrived (I’m not sure what it was I saw at first as I thought it was a boy). It was too much for me to take and I was a gibbering wreck with tears streaming down my face. I felt invincible, but, more importantly, I was so proud of W and will always be for the rest of my life. I had the easy part and to be frank, I’m not sure if I could go through what she went through that day.
I composed myself (just about) and wandered out to the waiting room where W’s Mum and Sister were sat in anticipation. I had a smile on my face as I entered the room and they saw me. My mouth just about got the words ‘It’s a girl!” (or at least that’s what I was trying to say – I think they heard “issfagrillljkbmbooooooo”) and I promptly broke down crying again as they hugged me.
The rest of the day I’ll have to save for another time, but my little girl had been born and my life had taken a dramatic change, never to go back again.
Tuesday April 25th 2006 - I remember waking from sleep somewhere around 6am, but it might have been earlier. W was sitting upright in bed and was wide awake - she clearly had been awake for some time. She said she felt different. Not being the most coherent of people in the morning, I don't think that statement sunk in straight away - after all, there were still a couple of weeks to go until the due date. So I think I possibly mumbled and grunted something in response and rolled over in an attempt to continue my quest to pogo stick around the Antarctic while wearing a pirates uniform with Elijah Wood, Chelsea Clinton and Top Cat as companions. All this while singing the chorus to 'Wake Me Up Before You Go Go.'
Or something.
Still, it wasn't long before I was sat up as well. I made a move to put the laptop on. I figured I might freak one or two people out on a message board I frequent by posting so early. Little did I know I would be doing that later that night for an entirely different reason. I don't think the laptop had even fully booted up before W was dashing to the toilet as her waters were breaking. Now it was definitely happening and the adrenaline kicked in. I rung the hospital and in a relaxed tone (obviously they do this every day), the Nurses on duty told me to bring W down to the maternity unit.
We got ready and I called W's Mum and Sister and here was probably my biggest regret of the whole day. I didn't call my Mum to get her to come down to the hospital as well. I would have loved to celebrate the birth of my first child with her there. Still, there's no use crying over spilt milk and after all, there's always next time. We took the trip down to the hospital (I'm so glad I didn't have to fight the traffic). The labour was quick (apparently it runs in the family and the second one is even quicker) and B was born at 11:47 if memory serves me well. Of course a lot went on in those six hours.
I didn't know what to expect in the months leading up to the birth and I was very nervous as I am queasy. I remember us going into what turned out to be the delivery room (for some reason, I thought we W would give birth in an operating theatre) and hearing a woman next door screaming so loud that I thought she might rip the whole maternity unit from its foundations. All of a sudden I felt very faint and I dashed off to the en-suite toilet, fearing more than anything that I was going to fail W when she needed me most. I thought I was going to be sick so hunched over the toilet in preparation. The irony didn’t escape me at all. There’s W, about to give birth and she’s worried and asking me if I’m alright
I wasn’t sick though, and to my complete amazement I got over it and was able to quickly regain my place at W's side. That's where I stayed as well for the duration - save for the occasional trip to shout at incompetent nurses who seemed to be oblivious to my calls for drugs. I can only assume that they thought there would be hours of labour left and there were other people more in need of urgent attention. Certainly for me, that part of it was more stressful than it should have been so god knows what it was like for W. We’ll certainly bear that in mind when choosing a hospital next time around. I continued to be as supportive to W as I could be and in fact, I was surprised how strong I was being.
Seeing the head beginning to come out was an amazing experience and another thing that I thought I would be too queasy to look at. However, I passed with flying colours. I was almost infatuated, probably because I knew my child had almost arrived in the world. When you consider how long it took to get to that point, the next part up until when B was born was like a 100-meter sprint.
Our daughter had arrived (I’m not sure what it was I saw at first as I thought it was a boy). It was too much for me to take and I was a gibbering wreck with tears streaming down my face. I felt invincible, but, more importantly, I was so proud of W and will always be for the rest of my life. I had the easy part and to be frank, I’m not sure if I could go through what she went through that day.
I composed myself (just about) and wandered out to the waiting room where W’s Mum and Sister were sat in anticipation. I had a smile on my face as I entered the room and they saw me. My mouth just about got the words ‘It’s a girl!” (or at least that’s what I was trying to say – I think they heard “issfagrillljkbmbooooooo”) and I promptly broke down crying again as they hugged me.
The rest of the day I’ll have to save for another time, but my little girl had been born and my life had taken a dramatic change, never to go back again.
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