Miles George Donald Hillman
Son of Kirsty and Rob Hillman
Born on the 8th of October 2012, at St George’s Hospital, Tooting
Weighing 7lb 11oz
ob and I met working for a small events company in Fulham. There was a lot of flirting over the photocopier, and when we finally got together we kept it under wraps for as long as possible. We were the least likely couple, and for a long time we got away with it – there was lots of speculation, especially when we booked holidays at the same time, but we weaved complex tales of trips to different countries to put people off the track.
Finally, we were outed, on a work trip to Paris during the Rugby World Cup after one too many drinks celebrating England’s surprise win in the semi final. It was met with much laughter, because we were polar opposites. Rob was a head boy, is sport-obsessed, spends his life in spreadsheets, and owns wellies; I’m lefty and book-obsessed, I don’t know what a spreadsheet is, and I own heels. We were openly told that it wouldn’t last.
Three years later, Rob proposed while we were on an eight mile walk along the Cornish coast. I think I might even have been wearing wellies.
We were over the moon to discover that I was pregnant, the day after my birthday in January 2012. After giving up booze for most of January, I was excited to be hitting the bubbles on my birthday – but something definitely felt off. The next day I did a test, and it was positive. We had a long haul holiday booked, so I went to St George’s for an early scan, where they confirmed that I was eight weeks, and that everything looked as normal as it could do at that stage. We went off to Barbados feeling relaxed and excited, and spent most of the time there googling what I could and couldn’t eat!
I was amazed that more people hadn’t guessed as I was eating biscuits at a rate of knots, but when we announced our exciting news at three months no one knew. My job had involved some heavy lifting during one event, and I’d hid in the loos to avoid it – my colleagues had obviously just assumed I was shirking responsibility!
We decided that we didn’t want to find out the sex of our baby. At the 20 week scan I was trying to sneak a peak, but Rob had his hands firmly over my eyes. I was pretty convinced from day one that it was a boy, but Rob was adamant it that was a girl. One of us had to be right, so we decided to wager a weekend away on the outcome.
The pregnancy went smoothly, and I left work three weeks before my due date. I was determined not to be overdue, and I drank copious amounts of raspberry leaf tea, had reflexology, ate hot curry and did everything else the books suggest! My waters broke the day after my due date and my contractions started a couple of hours later. We spent the day at home in a slightly surreal state, watching reruns of Celebrity Juice and drinking Lucozade, with my tens machine going. The only fraught time was when Rob laughed too loudly during a particularly intense contraction – he didn’t do that again! By the time we got to hospital I was pretty ready for some pain relief, so had an epidural, which was the best feeling in the world. Goodbye tens machine, hello Grazia magazine and a cup of tea.
Miles was born at 3.41am on Monday 8 October 2012. It was a terrible shock when we saw the colour of him and realised that he wasn’t breathing. Rob was asked to pull the emergency cord and within seconds there was a crash team in, cutting the cord and whisking Miles off to a corner to be given oxygen and heat. It was the worst moment of our lives, as we waited to hear that cry. Thankfully it came within a few minutes and we were able to see our little boy properly for the first time.
I was then whisked off for a manual placenta removal, which meant more drugs, and none of the skin on skin contact that I had so dreamed of. Rob was literally left holding the baby. After a pretty textbook labour it was all very upsetting, and post op I was very weak and emotionally drained, but Miles was doing well and we were so excited to finally have him in our arms.
The surreal surroundings and fraught post-birth experience made the first night in hospital pretty bleak. Bringing Miles home was simply the most amazing moment, and one I will never forget. It’s been an exciting, crazy first few months – from learning how to change a nappy whilst in the firing line, to dealing with a self-harming cat with abandonment issues. We’re throwing out the text books and going on gut instincts. We just enjoyed our first weekend away in the Cotswolds as a family, and, yes, it was Rob that picked up the cheque.