It began with a struggle, coming to terms with a third baby growing inside me, a baby so so wanted, but so so unplanned as well. The bond wasn't instant, I felt tiredness more than love, and it took a while for it to sink in that this was a third little person growing inside of me.
I worried throughout the pregnancy that I hadn't spent enough time enjoying the moment, but that is what happens when you have two small toddlers running around. With my first, I would relax in the bath every evening, telling my growing bump about my day, singing songs that he heard so often they calmed him instantly as a newborn and getting to know the tiny soul. With Finn, my baths at the end of the day were to calm me down and help me sleep, he heard my voice and my songs as I sung to his brothers, but little attention was his own.
I found out at twenty weeks that I was growing a third little boy, and I started to plan for him, thinking of names, choosing clothes and things for his room, but still I didn't feel as connected as I had the first time.
When labour began, I went into my own little zone, suddenly it was just me and him, and everything seemed so real. I was excited, exhausted, in pain and in love all at the same time. It wasn't long until I was holding this child in my arms, so much smaller and more fragile than I remember the other boys being, so perfect and beautiful, a surprise that we had been anticipating for months. I loved him from the beginning, I always had, but now it was different, he was so real and I was smitten.
I acted the same way all new parents do, counting those tiny digits, watching his face screw up to scream and relax as he was comforted. I didn't want to let go, to put him down, he snuggled into me and I stayed awake as he slept on my chest, the bloke snoring away next to us after a sleepless night. I counted my blessings, longing to see my other babies, to have our family complete and together, to see the wonder in their little faces, to see their reactions.
We had to stay in overnight, and as much as I was desperate to take my baby home, I looked at it as time to bond, without anyone else to disrupt us. We had a private room and whilst conditions were not ideal as Finn had to stay in the billibag to help with his jaundice it was just us two. The night was difficult, with my baby boy so unsettled away from my side and in the morning he was taken to SCBU to find out what was wrong. I was still a patient in the maternity ward, which meant he was wheeled away by the doctor as I waited to be discharged so I could follow him.
They took my baby away, he was only hours old and I was devastated - that I couldn't comfort him, that something was wrong, that he wasn't by my side. We were told that it wasn't normal, that his liver was struggling and that he would need to undergo numerous tests to get to the bottom of it.
It was then that I realised how fierce my love for him was. How intense and all consuming it was, there was nothing in the world but my baby boy and I. I didn't see other mums as I walked the corridors to find him, I didn't hear any of the other newborn cries, I knew they weren't my newborn and I needed to be with him.
I barely left his side for the 19 days we spent in special care. The unit was not set up for parents to stay, but I made it clear that I wasn't leaving and they adapted. I love my other children, but my baby was the one that needed me most right then and I needed him right back. Every moment I could hold him, I did, every piece of care I was allowed, I took, until he and I were living alone together, seeing the nurses only when he needed his drugs. It was intense, we were alone in one room all day and night, we had visitors, but it was just us, no long walks, social groups, distractions, just us.
Even now, I sometimes feel like it is just Finn and I, despite only having a few hours on a Tuesday when his big brothers are at nursery and it really is just us. We went through so much in those early hours, in those first weeks and I feel a love so intense for him, that I can't comprehend how I ever doubted it. Every night when he wakes up for a feed, I feel tired, exhausted even, resentful sometimes and then at peace, as we snuggle up together. I see his angry, hungry face settle into a contentment and I know that even though he is drinking from a bottle rather than a breast, this is something only I can do for him, only I can comfort him like a mother, wake up at the slightest noise, because we are still so in tune with each other, and stay up even once he has fallen back asleep just to watch his chest rise and fall as I know how fast this period of his life will go.
Finn and I have something special, a mother and son bond, what we have been through these past 4 months, we have been through together. I love him no more and no less than I do Dylan and Archie, but differently. He is our last, my baby and him and I, well we are snuggled up as I type this and I just don't want to put him down.
Did you know I am a finalist in the MAD awards in the best pregnancy category? I loved recording my pregnancy with Finn and if you can spare 30 seconds I would love for you to vote for The Mummy Adventure - you can do it here