Memoirs of a Wild Child (22 page)

We have more kids’ channels than anything else, I’m sure of it, especially at this time in the morning, when the only people awake are insomniacs and sleepless mothers. I swear I have found myself sitting here watching the Disney Channel with both kids still in bed on more than one occasion; it’s just second nature now.

I relish the calm, comforting cuddles as my boy settles against me, his body sleep heavy as the warm milk causes him to drift back to sleep. I pull him into my arms, cradling him; he’s too big now, and heavy, but I’ll take what I can get.

Holding him close to my body I look down and see how much he’s starting to look like Ben; my beautiful boy is growing up, and I can’t stop it.

After about half an hour of watching Cooper sleep in my arms, and stroking his soft skin, my arms start to ache; he really is too big. I gently move him to the opposite end of the sofa and cover him up with the blanket; he stretches out, and then snuggles back in.

I watch him again for a moment, and then look up at the photographs on the wall, either side of the mantelpiece. On the right-hand side is a framed photo of Ben and me with Cooper, a minute or two after he was born, and on the left, the same with Holly. She was so tiny. After that photograph was taken, she was taken away from me to the intensive care unit, and I thought my heart would stop.

I pick up Vinnie from the coffee table. It’s time to tell him all about Holly’s entry to the world.

My waters broke after only two pains. I had spent the day and night celebrating Rosie and Jackson’s wedding. I felt fine, just tired as the evening wore on. But as I felt the pain low in my stomach and the wetness leak from between my legs, panic set in.
I was only seven months pregnant.  It was too soon.

“It’s too soon, Ben, it’s too early.” I was crying, panicking as Ben knelt, beside the chair I was sitting on, trying his hardest to reassure me, but I could see that he was worried too.

“Hey, come on, you’re a picture of health, and with the amount you’ve been eating lately, that baby will be more than ready,” Ben replied, but I just sobbed harder. I wasn’t ready for this. Ben stood and held me to his chest.

The music had gone off now and people were giving me space. I could hear Jackson talking about me and looked up to see him updating some paramedics on my condition.

“Hi, Pippa, I’m Carly,” one of the paramedics said as she crouched in front of me, “I’m going to check you over, okay? And then we’ll see what’s what.”

I nodded my agreement, but couldn’t stop crying.

“Come on, sweetheart, you’re going to be fine. Are you, dad?” she asked, and Ben nodded, placing a protective hand on my shoulder.

“She’s only seven months,” he said, sounding more shaken now that someone else was in control.

“Well, we may be able to slow things down for a few weeks, but let’s see what we’re dealing with, okay.”

Carly had a calm, reassuring voice and I believed her when she said it was all going to be alright. She checked me over in the restaurant, there was only her and Ben and me in there now, with everyone else standing outside. Joaquin was trying to get hold of my parents, but it was late, and they were in Portugal.

“Right, Pippa, sweet, you are in quite well-established labour. I don’t want you to panic, lots of healthy babies have been born earlier than this one. Let’s get you to the hospital, okay?”

Everything moved so fast as we were taken by ambulance and rushed to the delivery suite; midwives and doctors came in and confirmed that there was no slowing this baby down. They tried to explain to Ben and I that they would need to take the baby to the neonatal intensive care unit once it was born, to make sure all was okay, but that was normal in premature births. Honestly though, Ben was like a deer in the headlights and just wanted to be near me; and my contractions were coming thick and fast.

By the time I had a second to ask for pain relief, it was already too late. Using just a little gas and air, I pushed through the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life, with Ben encouraging me every step of the way. And then it was gone; the sound of the tiny cry broke me and I burst into tears. I had worried the whole way here that the baby was going to die; I had convinced myself of it. But when my tiny Christmas miracle was placed in my arms, small but perfectly formed, I thanked God, for the first time since I was about seven. She was small, but she was healthy and strong; and my God she was beautiful.

Ben left the room to share our news with our friends and to call his family, just as Holly was taken away from me. It hurt, an actual physical ache when I had to let her go, but I promised her that I would come and see her soon.

I was able to express milk to give to Holly while she was in the incubator, via a tube for the first couple of days. But then they told me that I could hold her and feed her myself. She was doing fantastically well.

I held her in my arms, while Ben looked on, smiling with eyes as wet as mine. I waited, for a bottle to be given to me, but the nurse smiled and told me that I could try breastfeeding her. Tears left my eyes at her words. I had all but given up on the idea of being able to breastfeed Holly. I was worried she wouldn’t want me now a few days had passed, but I needn’t have worried, she latched on instantly, and fed so well that the nurses laughed and nicknamed her ‘greedy guts’ for the rest of her time with them.

The day they told us we could take Holly home was only a week after she was born and that was remarkable to me. She still seemed so tiny, but the doctors insisted she was a healthy weight. So on New Year’s Eve, we brought our girl home and saw in the New Year as a family. Ben and I may have only been together a year but it was perfect. We had our little girl, our family, and we were so happy.

The Wedding

When Ben proposed to me, it was beautiful. He got down on one knee on Christmas morning, Holly’s second birthday. She stood next to him holding the open ring box and I cried. “Yes,” I called out before he’d even finished asking me I couldn’t wait to be his wife.

We could have done it straight away, we’d been together for three years by then. We had the money to have our dream wedding the very next day if we had wanted, but we decided to enjoy being engaged for a while first. We were still so in love with being parents, the thought of planning a wedding just sounded too distracting.

We told our friends and family our happy news and then we booked a holiday, and engagement-moon I guess. The three of us flew to Tuscany, where we hired a villa, high on a hill and we celebrated in peace, quiet and understated luxury.

I knew then that I wanted to get married in the sun. It was so beautiful in Italy and Ben looked so handsome in his linen shorts and shirts, that was what I wanted, but there was only one place I could do it; Portugal.

We got to work planning our wedding and before we had time to think, we were arriving at my parents’ house with all of our friends and family, and it was time.

“You’re getting married tomorrow, I can’t believe it.” Rosie sipped at her champagne and started to get teary-eyed.

“Oh god, she’s off.” Rafe handed her a tissue and sat down next to his sister. My parents were watching the kids and Ben was staying at a hotel not far from my parents’ house.

I turned my head to look at my dress, hanging on the wardrobe door.  It was custom-made for me, champagne coloured lace curled up over my shoulders and draped into a low V at the back before dropping dramatically to the floor in a train behind me, clinging to every curve on my body as it went.

Without thinking, I reached for the glass of champagne beside me, only to have Rafe snatch it away and I was pulled from my daydream.  Every curve, I remembered, as my hands dropped to the small bump that was beginning to develop. I had found out that I was pregnant just five weeks before my wedding. My dress designer had been totally ecstatic when I told her I’d need to wait until the week before the wedding to have my final fitting and alterations as I didn’t know how big I would be, as I’m sure you can imagine.

I picked up my glass of orange juice and took a sip. “I am. I’m actually going to be a wife.” I was quiet, a little stunned that this was really happening.  Tomorrow, I would become Mrs Long, and I really couldn’t wait.

I curled up into bed, alone for the first time in years and thought about what lay ahead. A husband, a lifetime of happiness, my babies. I was excited, I couldn’t wait to marry my Ben, but first, I needed to sleep.

I rolled over, switched off the bedside lamp and closed my eyes, for the last time as a single woman.

“Wow.” Rosie’s eyes filled with tears as I turned around. My dress was so beautiful. I couldn’t have been happier. “Pippa, you look incredible.”

My best friend was genuinely happy as she looked at me and my mum looked stunned next to her.

“Mum, are you okay?” I asked softly, as I stepped towards her and she smiled.

“I am so proud, Philippa. One day you’ll understand when you see Holly in her wedding dress; or this little one.” She placed her hands on my tummy briefly. “I’ve never seen you look so beautiful, and I just can’t believe that you came from me.” Tears filled her eyes. “I love you, my Pippa, forever.”

A lump rose in my throat. Mum has never been shy of showing affection, but what came out of her mouth before my wedding was pure love, honest and true, and it meant the world to me.

Wiping away a tear, Rosie spoke, “Come on, Lalita, we better get downstairs and make sure the kids haven’t terrorised the men.”

She smiled and Mum returned the gesture before leaning up to kiss me, “Go get him, my girl.”

I laughed as I watched Mum and Rosie leave the room, and then, Vinnie, came you. I had already opened you, already thought you were a handsome devil and even thought of your name, but I hadn’t yet realised how much we would share.

I sat down with you, and you invited me in.  Begged me to write something, anything to introduce myself to you, but you had a higher purpose. As I thought about Ben and the life that had led me to him, I knew then that you, my Vinnie, would help me to honour that.  And my friend, you have. So now I’m going to give you what you wanted all along, the story of that day, and of my happy ever after; my wedding.

When Ben and I decided to have our wedding in Portugal, the planning started to snowball. I became excited about getting married to him on the beach at sunset; I fantasised about the photographs that we would have to look back on for the rest of our lives.

I started to collect images I liked and created a portfolio for our wedding photographer. I had asked my friend, Dane, to take our pictures, I didn’t trust anyone but myself, but as I couldn’t do it, Dane was the next best option. He had a similar style to me and we had known each other since I started modelling.

There’s a photo of me and you, you know. I was sitting in the chair by the window in my bedroom in Portugal, holding you in my hands just before the wedding. The sunlight was streaming in and the drapes were blowing in the breeze. Honestly, it looked like something from a Celine Dion video, but we looked good together Vinster.

When I knew that it was time, I made my way downstairs and to the waiting arms of my Dad. The only time I had ever seen a man look so proud was when Ben saw Holly for the first time. That look of love and awe is one that I believe is reserved for a father looking proudly at his child. It’s different to Mum’s and it cuts me to the core.

Dad, like Ben, is an affectionate man, when it comes to his family at least, so I wasn’t surprised when he hugged me and kissed me on seeing me as a bride for the first time.  But when he told me how beautiful I looked, my stomach flipped over. I have always wanted my dad to be proud to call me his daughter, and he always has been, but seeing that look in his eyes gave me the strength I needed to walk out of that door. I pushed any nerves aside as he held out his arm for me and led me towards my man.

The sun was low in the mid-afternoon, it was warm and I smiled as I took in the glow, this was exactly, what I wanted.

I laughed at Holly, twirling in her flower girl dress; she felt like a princess and I loved that. Rosie stood beside me and nudged my shoulder with hers, before wrangling Holly and handing her a basket of petals.

“Okay, Holly, you can go now,” Rosie said softly as the music started to play.

As I stepped onto the beach, I felt the sand between my toes and I took a deep breath, it was time. The beach was quiet but for the sounds of the birds and the sea, and the acoustic guitar calling me to Ben.

I laughed as Holly skipped, rather than walked, up the aisle, throwing petals in the air with every step and speeding up once she saw her Daddy smiling at the end. Rosie was walking behind Dad and I, in her short lace bridesmaid dress, a shade darker than mine.

I saw Jackson, and Rosie’s parents, Rafe, Matthew, some family members and friends. I smiled at my Mum, and Ben’s parents, and then there he was, smiling wide and looking more handsome than I had ever seen him. My Ben.

“You look so stunning,” Ben was grinning like the Cheshire cat as I came to a stop at the altar. “You too, princess,” he said to Holly, who was standing between us, holding onto the bottom of Ben’s linen shirt and smiling up at us. 

I looked at the girl and then at Ben and swallowed down the lump in my throat as my dad kissed my cheek, and Holly’s, and then shook Ben’s hand and stepped back to stand with Mum. He had wanted us to get married in his hometown church, but, of course, that wouldn’t have been possible, we don’t live in Portugal, and neither of us is Catholic. We agreed to have a blessing, though, a few days after the wedding on the beach.

“I love you,” I whispered to Ben, as the celebrant began the ceremony.

Ben and I declared our love for each other in front of our family and friends. When we kissed, everyone cheered and clapped and then Ben picked up the girl, and we kissed and cuddled her too. I was married, I was a mother, and now I was someone’s wife.

Considering that I had never wanted any of this, I had never felt happier.

We barbecued on the beach as the sun went down and then took the party inside the house until the time came for Ben and me to leave. Mum and Dad had booked us a honeymoon suite about half an hour away from their house; of course, they were looking after Holly for the night.

We travelled in a taxi, euphoric and love drunk, to the stunning rural hotel. Once in the room, Ben held me in his arms and kissed me.

“I told you you’d marry me one day didn’t I?” he was grinning. “I did it, I can’t believe I have you,” he looked totally stunned as he spoke.

“You’ll always have me, Mr. Long,” I replied and he laughed.

“Well then, Mrs. Long, let’s make the most of that forever and get you out of that dress.”

With moonlight streaming in through the open drapes, my husband made love to his wife for the first time; we lay in each other’s arms happy and sated, and drifted into sleep.

So there you have it, Vinnie, we made it. Of course, I could tell you about the honeymoon, but really, do you need to hear more about my sex life?

I’ll tell you this much, Bora Bora was paradise, in and out of the bedroom.

Thank you, Vinnie, you’ve helped me on a journey of recollection, and of appreciation. You’ve helped me to realise and accept things that I hadn’t before, and you have reminded me how much I appreciate Ben.

It’s been a wild ride, Vinnie, and as I prepare to close the book and store you away from prying eyes, I want to say one last thing. You helped to remind me of the path to my happy-ever-after, and now it’s all written down in black and white, to never let me forget.

There’s been ups and downs on this rollercoaster life of mine, but I made it, I found my prince, and hey… maybe it is a fairytale after all!

Stay classy, Vinster,

Just the beginning…