Fatherhood

Zachary on the left and our son Ian on the right. The photograph was taken just yesterday afternoon. Zach was six months old this week. He's coming on nicely. If you look closely you can see that his first tooth has come through. He's a pretty physical little fellow, rolling and threatening to crawl. Naturally he is the apple of his parents' eyes. 

Ian will be forty years old this summer and Sarah, Zach's mother, is not far behind. I am sure that it crossed their minds, just a couple of years ago, that they might never be parents so having Zach has been a great blessing. He is much loved and well provided for.

I was thirty when Ian was born. Witnessing his birth in the delivery room at Nether Edge Hospital was perhaps the most joyous moment of my life. To see another human being coming into the world was so overwhelming that his gender meant nothing to me and I only realised he was male when the midwife in attendance announced, "You have got a beautiful baby boy!"

For almost forty years, I believe I have been a good father to Ian. There's no guidebook. You just have to go with your instincts. Of course it helped that I have a lovely wife who  has always been a devoted, caring and capable mother. Nursing is essentially a practical job in which panicking should be avoided and Shirley brought a lot of that practicality and common sense to her mothering role.

We won't get to see Zach again  until the middle of May when my whole family will descend upon a rather luxurious Portuguese villa just a stone's throw from the sea. Of course Zach will get to see his girl cousins again - including happy Margot who was born just nine days after him.


from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/zR6aJ2T

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