Hi all, my oldest is 47 today. I can't believe that 47 years have passed since his birth. I can remember the day (a Sunday) as if it were yesterday. He was born in Lagan Valley Hospital Maternity Unit, where I'm sure most of Lisburn babies were born. All mine were born there. The head of the nursing dept was the late Sister Nelson. She was every bit as good as the obstetricians in caring for mothers and babies.

To my dismay, she was off duty on the Saturday night when I was admitted, me nervous and knowing absolutely nothing about childbirth. However, the following evening, after my first was born, she came on the ward. She approached me, smiling, and said, "You had a long labour - if I'd been here it wouldn't have been so long". That was Sr Nelson. Reassuring. In fact, thank goodness, she was on the ward on the births of my next 3 children.

It was a magical time, my first baby; I was so happy. The maternity ward was full. I remember Jackie Adams' wife was a few beds up from me. I'm almost sure she gave birth to twins. An older woman across from me in the ward had given birth to a little boy. The staff called him "the wee Orangeman" because he had jaundice and the month was July. I never thought anything of it at the time, I was so taken up with my own beautiful baby. This woman's grown up family visited her, lovely daughters and sons as well. I just thought she was quite old, that was all, me being a young 21 year old. It was only after a few days, when the euphoria had died down, that I discovered this woman's son had Down's Syndrome. I often wonder what happened to that wee boy. The mother lived in Dunmurry.

Just imagine how she felt with the rest of the ward rejoicing in having perfect children, and this one probably her last. I'm sure she's left this world now but I still remember her and her "wee Orangeman", God bless Him, I wonder is he still alive.

Ah, well, talking about birthdays, I made a special meal tonight. Sirloin and rib eye steaks for the "men" ,with pepper sauce, mash, peas, carrots, broccoli and salad. Then, I bought in Tescos a chocolate and fresh cream cake, also profiteroles for the birthday boy. BUT, the creme de la creme, is my toffee apple tart with fresh cream, made specially for the boss.

Just imagine 47 years ago, a feed of milk would have sufficed for my oldest. I must tell you that when same son was only just home from hospital, Pat called to see him (she is his godmother). He needed his nappy changing and she lay him on the bed, took off the soiled nappy and - what happened - he peed on her, a big fountain all over the place. I'll never forget. Wonder does sis remember?

I must be getting old, reminiscing like this. BUT, where does 47 years go?