Cooing over Emily

I’ve changed the title of the blog again – I’m not sure if it’s the done thing in ‘blogging circles’ to keep changing the title, but hey-ho. When I started the blog at the beginning of this year, my intention was to write about something I’d done every day that was positive or made me feel good. However, it’s developed into a blog about absolutely anything that’s going on - in my life or round about me - that’s made, or makes, me feel good (with the odd wee rant thrown in for good measure!). And I quite like that, so I’m sticking with it for the moment.

Yesterday I paid a visit to my friend who’s just had a baby. Little Emily is absolutely gorgeous and, as a mum with teenage children, I lapped up the opportunity to cradle a tiny new baby.

I remember a story in the papers a few years ago about a hospital in England that had ‘banned’ visitors from ‘cooing’ over new-born babies.  Anyone coming into the maternity ward was given a card which read:

“I am small and precious so treat me with privacy and respect. My parents ask you to treat my personal space with consideration. I deserve to be left undisturbed and protected against unwanted public view”

Have you ever heard anything so utterly ridiculous?! The reasons given for the initiative were cited as: to reduce infection; to respect the dignity of the patients; and to respect the human rights of the baby! Not surprisingly, the cards didn’t last long; the hospital was accused of allowing bureaucracy to go mad and of ignoring the wishes of the mothers on the ward – most of whom wanted people to admire their babies! It was also agreed that if a mum wasn’t happy about someone cooing over their baby, it should be up to the mum to say so, not some bureaucrat in an office upstairs.

Anyway, there were no such restrictions on me yesterday and I was extremely grateful for the opportunity to coo over and cradle little Emily. And, her mum assured me that she was delighted to hear yet another visitor tell her what a beautiful little girl she’d produced.  You see, what the bureaucrats didn’t realise was that Mums never tire of hearing nice things said about their children – no matter what age they are!