On Sunday, 10th July I was 38 weeks and three days pregnant. Although I still had 11 days until my due date I was beginning to wonder if Little Mister H was ever going to arrive.
Over the weeks my anxiety levels had grown. And I could not see the pregnancy ending happily.
And that weekend, I had begun to talk to Mr H about asking my midwife for a stretch and sweep.
I was worried about how apprehensive I was beginning to feel and I didn’t want to go into labour in a heightened state of anxiety.
But on Sunday, 10th July I felt more relaxed.
Mr H had taken Little Miss H out for the morning and I got on with some cleaning. I cleaned rooms. Put the washing on. Cleaned all the upstairs windows. And generally pottered around the house organising.
That afternoon, Little Miss H and I settled on to the sofa to watch Andy Murray beat Milos Raonic in the final of the 2016 Wimbledon Championships.
During the match I began to get period like pains and suspect that something might be starting.
At 18.30 Mr H was serving up a dinner of roast pork, spinach and roast potatoes. I poked my head around the kitchen door and mentioned that there was a small possibility/ probability/ likelihood that I could be/ possibly/ may be in labour.
We decided to sit down and have our dinner and see how I felt afterwards.
After the last forkful, I rushed upstairs to the bathroom. I came back downstairs and confirmed that what I suspected was actually happening. We were going to have a baby and we probably needed to get a wriggle on.
We arranged for Little Miss H to go and stay with a relative and Mr H went to drop her off. Meanwhile, I packed the last of our bits in the hospital bag and phoned the hospital.
We eventually bundled ourselves into the car and set off.
By that point, my contractions were more intense and more frequent and I needed to concentrate on my breathing to deal with them.
Introducing Little Mister H
After less then 3 hours of labour, at 21.05, Little Mister H made his appearance into the world.
The midwife was still trying to find her mirror and hand-held monitor whilst I was in the pool birthing our second rainbow baby.
I took Little Mister H out of the water and put him straight onto my chest.
With that one motion, the weight lifted. All the anxiety, struggle and depression of the past nine months melted away.
Little Mister H was in my arms.
And as I write this over a week later, he is still lying in my arms.
He is perfect and beautiful in every way. Just as his sister is perfect and beautiful in every way.
And I am happy. Joyful. Content.
For at last our family is complete.
And all the tragedy. The heartbreak. The worry. The tears. It was all worth it.
Because now three has become four. And four is our magic number.