Indulge me again.

Back in January I asked you to indulge me and allow me to subject you to a whole lot of smulch about my gorgeous son and first born child as it was his birthday.

It's that time again!

Today is Lil Miss P's 12th birthday and as I type this I'm waiting for the EH to bring her and her brother home so that they can spend the rest of today with me.

This is, of course, the perfect opportunity for me to write about my second attempt at doing the pregnancy/child-birth thing properly. It's not hard to see why we quit after 2!

After the drama of giving birth at 26 weeks the first time, as you can imagine, I was watched like a hawk during my second pregnancy. My Dad likened me to a ticking time-bomb, just waiting to go off at any moment!

Well I got past 26 weeks, then 30, then 33 and so in the 34th week I decided to go to London and stay with Mum & Dad for a little while as EH was away on business and I was the size of a house looking after a 2 year old. Always a good time to de-camp to parent's place!

We had been there for a few days when, on the Wednesday evening (this would be the 6th March) at around 10pm, my waters broke. Woops! Dad was hysterical, I think he thought I would just go and give birth right there in the kitchen!

Dad stayed home with Master P while Mum took me to St. Thomas's hospital. We had a rather nervous taxi driver who also thought I would give birth right there too. I should add that I wasn't even having any contractions at this stage.

I asked Dad to call EH at the hotel where he was staying with colleagues. What I didn't know was that they had all been out drinking and he wouldn't even arrive back at the hotel until about 2am!

When he got back and was told by the porter that he needed to go to London as his wife was in labour, he assumed his colleagues were winding him up. It was only when my Dad's name was mentioned that he leapt into action! The first problem was that he was a little bit wankered from drinking Murphy's and rum & cokes all night - bit difficult to drive after that. His colleagues immediately ordered coffees and bacon sandwiches while EH called the police. Yes, he called the police and asked for someone to come and breathalyse him! The 2 policemen showed up, a little bemused at the request, but when they heard the story they were more than happy to oblige. I should also add that EH is 6'4" and weighed something like 250 pounds back then. His ability to process alcohol proved to be pretty impressive.

It took several coffees with the friendly policemen and about 3 attempts with the breathalyser until he got a green light and was cleared for take-off.

He flew down the motorway, doing a journey that should have taken 2 hours in just under 1 and arrived at the hospital at about 6am. He looked like shit! He stunk like an old wino and looked just as bad. Once he was assured that he hadn't missed anything he simply passed out in a chair in the corner of the room! I lied and said I didn't know him.

In the end Lil Miss P wasn't in that great a hurry to be born. Having gone in on Wednesday night, she didn't make her appearance until Saturday lunchtime. She may have been 6 weeks early but was a good 5 lbs 2 oz. I had convinced myself that I was having another boy so when the midwife announced that she was a girl we were all stunned.

Lil Sis was also present for the birth, and as you can see by her 3, it didn't put her off one bit.

Lil Miss P had to stay in SCBU for 10 days as she wouldn't feed properly. That meant I had to go home after childbirth without my baby for the second time. I can't tell you how tough that was. The doctors eventually let me take her home to Mum & Dad's with a naso-gastric tube in. (After weeks of dealing with a prem baby in SCBU when I had Master P, they figured that I knew what I was doing.)

What started out as a week's stay in London, ended up being a month's stay! My poor parents had their tiny flat taken over with baby paraphernalia, breast pumps, and a freezer full of bottled breast milk!

So today she turns 12, and yes I feel bloody old. This is my baby we're talking about here, my youngest. She can't possibly be this grown-up young lady that I waved off on Friday night as she left for a birthday dinner with her Dad.

Happy Birthday Lil Miss P, my grown up girl. I am so proud of you and love you lots and lots and 1,000,000 lots! xxx