Weighing in at just under 5 pounds, (sorry, I have no idea what that is in kilos, or metres, or whatever), Rosanna was able to go straight to Debbie but Emily, at just under 4 pounds, had to be kept in SCIBO, (Special Care Baby Unit. Not sure where the "i" comes from though. Guess it has a nicer ring to it than SCABU, which just sounds like a nasty skin disease). This left Debbie in the horrible position that, having been through a c-section, she was not able to easily visit Emily as often as she would have liked. Either she had to shuffle in there in great pain, or someone would wheel Emily to her for a quick visit. Either way it wasn't ideal and Debbie was naturally reluctant to take just the one baby home, so she stayed until Emily was big enough and strong enough to be discharged. In the end this was for 11 days.

11 days, that's a long time. For a father looking after a 3 year old on his own, it's not just a long time, it's a bloody eternity. But finally we got them home, in their car seats, although admittedly they did struggle with that last left hand bend a bit.



When your kids are born you are biased in your opinions of their looks, there is no doubt about that. But Emily, bless her, well she was no oil painting and we knew it. Being so small she did look a bit like a plucked chicken or, at best, a newly discovered alien lifeform.



But little did we know what other surprises Emily held in store for us.