3:35 p.m. - 2025-04-18
The Baby Blues

I haven't really had the urge to write much here in recent weeks. There are some reasons for this, but for the most part i've been lost in my own thoughts about certain aspects of my past. A couple of weeks ago, my son called inviting me to a local football derby of interest, and the promise of free tickets made it too good a chance to miss. The Maid was going to see her dad that weekend anyway, and wasn't interested in coming along, so I left the Borders to drive up the road and stay over on the Saturday.

I stopped for a coffee break in Edinburgh on the way over and sent a couple of messages just to say hello, one to Donna, and one to P, my baker shop girl. Donna still hasn't replied two weeks later, so I'm pretty sure that's the end of that episode in my life. P on the other hand did reply and ask me how things were. I told her I was on the way to the football. Oh, she said. You will be in town then? Would you like to drop by my apartment if you have time, there's someone I'd like you to meet.

So I did, and when I arrived, P's older sister opened the door and invited me in. P's mum was there, Janice the midwife, and the home call hairdresser, a young woman called Agnes who had just finished doing P's hair for her. And the big surprise of the visit, P's new baby son, christened James, William, after her father, and grandfather. I felt faint for a moment when I saw the little fella, and P bid me to sit beside her on the sofa. Her son was just a week or so old, a beautiful healthy boy, with a little wisp of red hair and perfect blue eyes. Ladies, you may want to cross your legs at the next statistic. Baby weighed in at nearly eight pounds when he was born, and it was a natural birth, with no complications. I mean, that's a good weight and size. It must have hurt - a lot.

I asked P how she was and I wasn't surprised when she said she was still feeling a bit sore after the birth. She was on the mend though, and her mum and sister had been a great help. She looked well and her new hairdo and a wee makeover had perked her up a little. She asked me if I'd like to hold her son and at first I said maybe it would be better just let him rest, but she insisted. P's mum remarked that I was a natural at holding little James, I'd obviously held babies before. Did I have children of my own she asked? The hairdresser then said the most bizarre thing. She looked at me and said you have the same colour of blue eyes as the baby. Everyone looked at me and P wen't red in the face. Just at that, the little fella grabbed hold of my pinky with his tiny little hand, and smiled. When he heard my voice, his little eyes reacted to it, and followed my every move. I held him a little while longer before saying that I had better be on my way.

I've spoken to P on the phone a couple of times in the last fortnight while Marion has been at work. Neither are aware of the other and P doesn't know i've moved home. I don't see any point in changing any of that. P told me that the Cellmark test was conclusive, and that baby James' biological father has agreed to support her financially, but has also asked for access to visit his son and be involved in parenting. She says she is the happiest she's ever been, and having a son relatively late in her life has been so wonderful. She couldn't think why she consciously avoided having a child all through her younger years, and if she had the choice to turn back time, she would have had a big family. Maybe she just never met the right guy who was father material, I said. Perhaps, she said, but how would she have known who was Mr Right?

I haven't really thought about anything else this past fortnight except holding baby James in my arms for that short time. New life, perfect in every way, a miracle in every sense, a son to a wonderful woman who's maternal instincts I knew were there in abundance. I sensed that in her when I first met her, just like I had done with first wife. There have been few if any other women I've known over the years that I felt that way about. I guess I spent more time and effort being careful in my life to avoid unplanned and unwanted pregnancies with various women I did love but would never consider having children with them, mainly because I wouldn't want them to be a mother to my child. They just never had that secret maternal sauce that makes a good mother. I guess I've always wished I could be a father again, even now as I get older.

I remember talking to Marion last year when her perimenopause symptoms first appeared. She told me how sad she felt at the time. That she would no longer be able to have children, and how she felt meeting me had happened too late in her life. If only we had met each other a few years earlier, she said. Who knows what might have happened. I didn't realise at the time, but when I think about it now, she was maybe trying to tell me that she would have loved to have had another child, and perhaps she meant with me? I don't think women quite realise that men are just as prone to the baby blues as they all can be. Unless of course, its just me.