Grateful.

My teeny tiny boy is home now, and fitting in well to the routine of a house full of noise and busyness. I am loving it. He's very contented, and benefitted from being in a hospital schedule - I find the first week or so the most difficult in terms of settling babies into a reasonable feeding pattern, and the neo-natal nurses did all the hard work for me.

While I mention them, I really should give a public vote of sincere thanks to the healthcare professionals I encountered. With the exception of one clueless consultant who sent me on a 30 mile journey in the back of an ambulance with no pain relief, I was treated with respect and tremendous care for the whole of my hospital stay. I plan on writing to the ward, the hospital administration, and the local paper, commending the midwives, neonatal nurses and auxilliary nurses.

They worked cheerfully while understaffed, they were really thoughtful about managing my pain, they took time out of their frantic shifts to encourage me when I was tearful, and they were hugely apologetic that I had to take a 60 mile round trip while potentially being in premature labour. God was very gracious - in His providence, Reuben had steroids to dry out his lungs a week before my very fast labour would have been too quick to allow it.

But I find myself again cross about the silly NHS 're-organization' that considers that 60 mile trip something that a frightened woman with a vulnerable baby should ever have to endure in a first world country, when there is a perfectly adequate facility less than 15 minutes from her own home, it just isn't staffed properly.

*takes deep breath*

Anyway, gripes aside, it's such a relief to be at home together. Being separated from a newborn was something I'd not experienced before and it was utterly hellish. And likewise, being separated from my girls was also very hard. Devoted family time is very precious, and I'm enjoying every last second of it.