You couldn't make this up!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR JORDAN!
My 2nd son is 18 today..EIGHTEEN! He is now 6 ft 4 and a bit inches tall and as skinny as a rake. I love this gangly boy, he is quite, quite unique. Gentle and incredibly funny and he loves me, unashamedly and without reserve and not a bit afraid to say it or show it.
When did he enter the world and how? Ahhh, now THIS story IS a good one, get comfy and enjoy the telling.
Daniel was 15 months old when I found out I was pregnant with Jordan and I was beyond terrified. Dan's birth was horrible, 28 hours of indescribable fear and pain and I was pretty sure I never wanted to endure that again but husband number 1 was persuasive and so here I was knowing that what goes up, must come down and I was SOOOOO scared!
I spent most of the nine months avoiding even the thought of giving birth and without that step it's pretty hard to imagine the baby, so I just grew fatter and more afraid and didn't have much fun, all in all.
At 7 months, I flew back from Germany determined that my baby would be English and NOT German, thankyou very much, and we went to stay with my mum in lovely Somerset for the duration.
Oh how grandma loves babies, she was so excited to have me there ( less excited at the first husband's company, but mothers have an uncanny intuition about sons in law and she was certainly spot on in this case) One of her activities during this stay was to try everything in her power to induce some excitement into me for the impending arrival of my newborn. Hmmmm how to do this, I wonder? Oh, I know..lets buy some beautiful material with tiny cherries on and make exquisite little sundresses to dress my tiny baby girl in...THAT'S a good idea. Back in the day we would have an ultrasound, but it was a grainy affair showing little to the untrained eye, other than a blurry image of an alien like creature which we were led to believe would become a real person with actual eyes instead of gaping black holes and arms and legs rather than fuzzy stick things...no chance of knowing whether said Alien would be a male or female of the species, so we would concentrate and try to imagine or we would listen to those older and more knowledgable than ourselves and believe them if they said what we wanted to hear.
So, pretty frocks it was then. Beautiful, tiny tiny little white sundresses and cherry frocks and lacy cardigans knitted on needles so thin you could probably use spaghetti and it would be fine.
Awwwww.....it worked, I Imagined my tiny, tiny baby girl who would have lots of silky dark hair and big blue eyes, she would be 6lbs and look adorable in these hand made creations.......
So.....40 weeks and 3 days, fat, fat and SO hot in the unheard of occurrance of an English heatwave. Waddling and sweating and less than cheery the first husband decided that a shopping trip would be perfect, take the miserable fat cow out for the day in the hope that she is either cheered up or drowned out by the bustle of Taunton city center.
I WAS SO HOT! We walked and looked and after about an hour I said " I hate this, can we go home? I want to go home" When he had picked himself up off the floor and asked 3 times for me to repeat what I had said, he grabbed the chance to get away from shops and we set off for the car. I wanted a newspaper so popped into a shop and bent down to grab the Daily Mirror...OOOOH that was a bit shrp...oh no, it stopped. Off we went, oh darn, need to pee...into Mothercare and OOOH that's a tight one...oh no its stopped.
Drive home and chat with mum...." I just didn't ....hang on, that's a bit tight...oh it's OK it stopped..... I wanted to go strawberry picking but the field was closed...ow...nope its alright its just a twinge and anyway it's stopped...oh hang on, I need to pee"
When I came out of the toilet the husband and mother had decided that stopping mid sentance every 6 minutes warranted a call to the hospital, they said to come in and despite my true and very vocal objections, I was bustled into the car and driven the 20 miles to the hospital, moaning every step of the way .
I had had no more than 6 tightening feelings which stopped the very minute I sat in the car. An hour at the hospital with husband asking if I had had anymore ...several threats later with promises that it would be HIM feeling regular bouts of pain if he didn't shut the hell up and stop asking, complaints about time wasting and false labour, the midwife came in to say that she had better examine me before sending me home as quite obviously nothing was happening was it? Husband sent to phone home and tell them we were on our way back.
It's incredibly difficult to have light conversation when flat on your back with legs apart isn't it? Bless her for trying though, the midwife asked if I had any preferences and I said " yes, six pound girl please" " no", she replied " I mean, when you are having the baby do you want to swing from the light fitting or stand on your head humming or anything?"
" oh, I see, no thankyou, my only request will be painfree please"
" so you don't mind having your waters broken then?"
" not a bit, I shan't care as long as it means the baby will be out soon"
" Oh good.....you can push if you like" and with that there was an almighty pop and the dam was broken, I kid you not there must have been 30 gallons of amniotic fluid in there.....
"WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!"
"Well, my dear, as unbelievable as it must seem, you are at 10 cms .....would you just LOOK at all this water and watch your belly! " and we did, we sat and watched this huge belly shrink as the rivers of babylon flowed out of me, into her lap and we could see the shape of my baby.
In walked the husband who slipped on the spilling river and laughed in that maniacal and hysterical way that is natural when you are faced with such an unbelievable sight.
So, when we all actually believed that this was it, it was time to push, even though I was completely and utterly without the urge to push...we set about getting into position and there began the infuriating yelling of those not being asked to try and force something the size of a football out of a hole the size of a marble " Come on...PUSH"
" I can't, I'm sorry, this is way to bizarre, I don't WANT to!"
The midwife.." Oh Helen this is so great, I have never seen a labour like this, I want to deliver this baby and I am off duty in 40 minutes..please give it a go, maybe when you start pushing it will trigger off the urge and the baby will help"
Oh alright.......I got myself psyched ( imagine this picture, because although graphic it is quite funny) Me flat on back, legs up in the air, midwife between legs , husband at side somewhere grasping a thigh I shouldn't wonder.... Right, here we go.......push, strain.........FAAAAAARRRRTTT! huge fart, not in the least lady like and not at all ignorable. OH MY GOSH!
I could do nothing but just collapse in hysterics...and God bless him for this, knowing my absolute horror at the thought of breaking wind and embarrassing myself, the husband said "Oh, excuse ME" which had me shriek in hysteria again " HA HA HA !! Her face is between my LEGS she KNOWS it was me!!!" And to my glee I was completely unrepentant and unabashed, even I could see that if you are straining enough to get a child out of your body it stands to reason that a pathetic thing like a fart hasn't a chance of staying in there and if by chance you need to poo...forget trying to hold that in as well!!
Anyhoo...40 minutes of pushing even though I didn't want to, suddenly found me a mother again...." Awwww let me see her"
" IT'S A BOY!!!!"
" A what? No, you see I ordered a girl, a tiny girl please"
" Nope, its a boy"
Oh...shit. Now what?
Give him to his dad then and I'll look and see if I can get used to the idea. And there he was, a big, solid boy person. Hmmmmm. 8 pm, bath over ( ewwww husband helped me into warm bath..not a good idea, always go for shower after giving birth, a bath is like liver soup, you SO don't want to sit in it I tell you, you certainly don't want your husband to get the idea that you might want to wash your hair in it and have him tip a jug of the water on your head as mine did, sorry too much information, even from me)
I spent the whole night staring at this stranger, this big 8lb 11 oz boy that had literally just sort of sprung from my body and was suddenly there without any pain or even warning he was coming. I couldn't for the life of me feel ANYTHING except shock.
It took me several days to feel that he was mine, even his naming was done in a trance.
" what shall we call him?" said I
" Thomas" said he ( husband not baby!)
" Jordan" I replied.
" Jordan" "Thomas"
" Ok, Jordan Thomas" and so Jordan Thomas Edward was born.
He was 5 days old when I knew I truly loved him, the husband was holding him and he choked ( baby, not husband, unfortunately) husband didn't seem able to help him and after what seemed a long time I felt real fear and snatched Jordan from husband and got him to breathe...I looked down on his little fat face with great big kissy lips and huge eyes, his perfectly groomed looking dark hair and I loved him. What a relief, he WAS beautiful. He WAS mine and he was here, he hadn't caused me a bit of pain on his arrival and here he was, he smelled divine, his skin was like velvet and he was the sweetest , least demanding baby I have ever looked after.
My second son, so different from my first son, as he has grown he has developed the most fabulous sense of humour, he is quick witted, generous to a fault, wicked in the most delightful way and of course, totally gorgeous.
I am happy to be his mummy too.