At 10:59 am (BST) of September 12th my first son, Martino Zeno, was born at the Rosie Hospital in Cambridge. Although it feels like ages ago, only a month has actually gone by. Holding my own son in my arms a few minutes after he was born, still hurriedly wrapped in a few surgery cloths and stained with her mother’s blood triggered the strongest flow of emotions I’ve ever felt in my life.
Probably it was the relief after a labour started three days before, the rush to the surgery room after 24 hours spent at the hospital trying to have a normal and natural birth but when I finally had Martino in my arms and saw the look in Francesca’s eyes all the tiredness, worries and stress went away and I suddenly felt a rush of joy, happiness and, again, relief. Probably Martino felt the same way because he soon gave his very special welcome to the world by crapping all over me. Damn midwives, they didn’t put the nappy on! I am just kidding, no hard feelings at all, I was still wearing the scrubs they provided me to assist Francesca in the surgery room so no worries there.
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