Hello folks. I'm back. For all of you who prayed for me and sent messages of good will, I send you a jolly sackful of goody-gum-drop thanks. I had a ridiculously easy experience delivering number four. It was absurdly easy - by comparison - of course it still hurt like the Dickens but nothing like an induced, days long eek-stravaganzoid. Me, the husband and kids even took the bus to St Mary's - it seemed easier than taking the car and trying to find parking, even with the contractions. As we found ourselves without childcare, the 3 year old and the 1 year old came too. It was over in a handful of hours and the kids and husband went home to bed. I was wheeled to the wards where I was given a bed opposite a lady who spoke 24/7 on a phone and another lady who had a bus load of relations who stayed all night chattering like sparrows, scrap that, like crows. I had a histrionic moment when I demanded that either the relations, the mobile phone or I be moved. Suitably for someone who was showing signs of going round the twist, I was shown to an almost empty ward opposite, where I could not believe my lucid luck, until it filled up with wailing women and screaming babies, including mine, in the early hours. Still those few hours of silence were golden, GOLDEN, like the locks of my other two little ones when spread angelically on their pillows as they slumber, their sweet breath...do they slumber? Am I the Easter Bunny? No one slumbers in this house anymore. Sometimes my husband and I just look at each other over a room that is so messy as to have become unidentifiable as a room of any description at all, while one holds the screaming toddler and the other holds the screaming three week old as we laugh like a pair of frazzle-headed looneys. My husband has become just as forgetful and scatty as me, but together our half brains make some kind of whole. But we feel very blessed, in a slightly maddened, zonked out sort of way. What am I going to do when he goes back to work?