Back in January 1987 i was suddenly woken by my wife at the time telling me the baby was on its way....

We drove to the GDH...Greenwich District Hospital and spent the next 16 hours in the labour ward while my wife went through all the motions of labour and i played the doting expectant father who couldnt believe what i was putting this woman through. and after 16hours of is it or isnt it, would you like some water darling, can i sit down for a minute, i was suddly surrounded by doctors, a midwife and nurses.....we'd already gone through 2 shift changes........and ushered out of the room while my wife was whisked off to theatre due to 'complications' and i was left alone in the middle of the night in a lonely hospital corridor. My fears were running wild through my mind. I was only 22....i needed someone to tell me all was going to be ok!!!!!!

Half an hour later i was dragged into a darkend room and a bundle of bald thing was thrust into my arms while they then proceeded to use asuction to get the mucus out ofits nose and ears......i think my tears helped with the cleaning....she was so small, less than 6 pounds yet she had held onto her secure position as long as was possible.

21 years later and the 6lb thing was now lying in a similar room sucking on gas and sipping water and going through hell while squeezing my hand and making me feel even more awful just for being a man.

And as if to make matters worse......."im sorry but you'll have to leave the room" de ja vue?

Thankfully no theatre this time....just another couple of hours of noise and then.....nothing.....Dan...My daughters partner comes out and becons us forward.

There, in my daughters arms is a small pink squished thing with dark hair.

Why is it that in my 43 years ive experienced death close hand more times than i ever wish to think of, yet ive only ever had the joy of life twice?

She is beautifull, as far as a pink squishy thing can be.