The decision was made!
We will have children!
It had taken quite some time for us to both agree. But in our mid-thirties, the time was right.
Six weeks later, the doctor was giving us the good news that we were to be parents in November.
Preparations began immediately.
Shopping to be done and readying a room for the baby. Telling our surprised parents who had long given up on the prospect of us producing grandchildren. Breaking the news to our beloved fifteen year old can that he would no longer be an only "child".
I went shopping for baby paraphernalia and clothes. Baby girl clothes specifically. They were so adorable and I could only see pink in every store I visited. At my mother's insistence, I chose a couple of baby boy outfits, but it was those gorgeous, frilly, fluffy, girly ones that I couldn't resist.
The wardrobe in the baby's room was soon crammed full of a glorious array of delightful little girls dresses from birth size to age five!
At work, my surprised staff, who never expected me to be in an expectant state, asked if I preferred white or lemon baby items. "Neither, thank you. I prefer pink!" They gave me a gorgeous pink and white cot set with teddy bears on it.
My husband painted the baby's room a candy pink colour, with a wallpaper frieze of teddy bears and dolls across each wall. The 'family' cot was retrieved and refreshed with a can of pale pink paint. A rocking chair with pink cusions completed the room, a vision of rosy hues.
The next big consideration was baby names. As my husband is from Switzerland, we agreed that it was important to choose names that both sets of grandparents would be familiar with. (I know my parents would not have been keen on Gertrud for their granddaughter or a little Gottfried grandson.) We decided on Roseanne. Toby would be our future possible boy.
Due to my advanced age, I needed to be attended by a specialist. I was most adamant that the Obstetrican was a female who had her own children. Dr Christine Tippett was wonderful, very supportive, capable and caring, and a mother of six children. Perfect. Most comforting for a first time 'elderly primagravida', Mum-to-be. She even enquired about the names we had chosen.
Finally, the exciting, life changing day arrived. Our little girl would soon be here.
I experienced an eight hour labour, during which I inhaled a copious amount of pain relieving gas. This must have affected my cognitive abilities as I recall I sang the Methodist Church Doxology, on repeat and repeat, for several hours. The poor medical staff suffered along with me.
Eventually, Dr Tippett held aloft a healthy 8 1/2 lb baby and announced, "It's a Toby!"
And following this is the moment which I am confessing today.
I sank back on the pillows in my befuddled state, closed my eyes and groaned,
"All that for a bloody boy!"
Then I felt something on my face, tears from my husband's eyes above me as he joyously exclaimed "Yes, but he is a bloody beautiful boy!"
Before I could react, the doctor placed the baby onto my chest.
Sudenly, it was as if the room was exploding with fireworks as I held this magnificent miracle of our baby in my arms. The most perfect, wonderful, spectacular baby ever born. My beautiful son, Toby.
From that moment, I was the proudest, happiest mother in the world.
We had created this wondrous little boy, who has so much love and so many adventures awaiting him.
Our love for him was instant and all enveloping. I had the most wonderful baby in all the world.
A week later, we were driving away from the hospital towards our home and the perfectly pink bedroom awaiting Toby. My husband casually commented, "So, I suppose you want to go shopping for more baby clothes now!"
Jill Gaumann
July 2023
We will have children!
It had taken quite some time for us to both agree. But in our mid-thirties, the time was right.
Six weeks later, the doctor was giving us the good news that we were to be parents in November.
Preparations began immediately.
Shopping to be done and readying a room for the baby. Telling our surprised parents who had long given up on the prospect of us producing grandchildren. Breaking the news to our beloved fifteen year old can that he would no longer be an only "child".
I went shopping for baby paraphernalia and clothes. Baby girl clothes specifically. They were so adorable and I could only see pink in every store I visited. At my mother's insistence, I chose a couple of baby boy outfits, but it was those gorgeous, frilly, fluffy, girly ones that I couldn't resist.
The wardrobe in the baby's room was soon crammed full of a glorious array of delightful little girls dresses from birth size to age five!
At work, my surprised staff, who never expected me to be in an expectant state, asked if I preferred white or lemon baby items. "Neither, thank you. I prefer pink!" They gave me a gorgeous pink and white cot set with teddy bears on it.
My husband painted the baby's room a candy pink colour, with a wallpaper frieze of teddy bears and dolls across each wall. The 'family' cot was retrieved and refreshed with a can of pale pink paint. A rocking chair with pink cusions completed the room, a vision of rosy hues.
The next big consideration was baby names. As my husband is from Switzerland, we agreed that it was important to choose names that both sets of grandparents would be familiar with. (I know my parents would not have been keen on Gertrud for their granddaughter or a little Gottfried grandson.) We decided on Roseanne. Toby would be our future possible boy.
Due to my advanced age, I needed to be attended by a specialist. I was most adamant that the Obstetrican was a female who had her own children. Dr Christine Tippett was wonderful, very supportive, capable and caring, and a mother of six children. Perfect. Most comforting for a first time 'elderly primagravida', Mum-to-be. She even enquired about the names we had chosen.
Finally, the exciting, life changing day arrived. Our little girl would soon be here.
I experienced an eight hour labour, during which I inhaled a copious amount of pain relieving gas. This must have affected my cognitive abilities as I recall I sang the Methodist Church Doxology, on repeat and repeat, for several hours. The poor medical staff suffered along with me.
Eventually, Dr Tippett held aloft a healthy 8 1/2 lb baby and announced, "It's a Toby!"
And following this is the moment which I am confessing today.
I sank back on the pillows in my befuddled state, closed my eyes and groaned,
"All that for a bloody boy!"
Then I felt something on my face, tears from my husband's eyes above me as he joyously exclaimed "Yes, but he is a bloody beautiful boy!"
Before I could react, the doctor placed the baby onto my chest.
Sudenly, it was as if the room was exploding with fireworks as I held this magnificent miracle of our baby in my arms. The most perfect, wonderful, spectacular baby ever born. My beautiful son, Toby.
From that moment, I was the proudest, happiest mother in the world.
We had created this wondrous little boy, who has so much love and so many adventures awaiting him.
Our love for him was instant and all enveloping. I had the most wonderful baby in all the world.
A week later, we were driving away from the hospital towards our home and the perfectly pink bedroom awaiting Toby. My husband casually commented, "So, I suppose you want to go shopping for more baby clothes now!"
Jill Gaumann
July 2023
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