Birth – an extract from ‘Farther from the Sun’.

Henry was our last born of our four children. He is the baby of the family.

It is strange.

There is something magical about conception. Every single time we made love that resulted in a pregnancy, it was magical. I could feel that life start from that instant. Something amazing happened. I could feel it.

This was no drunken moment, no mistake or condom failure, nothing mundane or inconsequential; this was magic.

I felt this with all four of our children – something mystical. I knew we were starting a new life.

Henry was born at home.

I was watching football, not a cup final, as with Hester’s birth, but some European match, late in the evening. Liz was sitting on the settee and the first thing we knew was when her waters broke. She had to quickly put a cushion under her as the fluid poured out. Only then…