Day 313. Thirteen. (9/11/13)

The first phone call came in the early afternoon. J was taking a couple of Paracetamol and having a warm bath. Instructions. No need to leave work yet. The second came soon after; time to leave.

I was the assistant manager at the time but running the stockroom. The last thing you need is to lose the guy who's running your stockroom for a fortnight in the middle of November but sometimes these things can't be avoided. I owned a scooter at the time; a Piaggio Liberty, a modern take on a 50s design, bought because it was in my price range, I always regretted not paying the extra and going for the Vespa that I actually wanted.

Rainproofs and helmet on, a trip down the dock road and home. Within an hour we were in the maternity ward.

We knew it was a boy, we'd asked so that we could prepare Tom for his sibling. He knew that he was getting a little brother. The baby had bought him a Transformer, a first gift for his big brother.

Liverpool were playing away. Eastern Europe somewhere. UEFA cup (as was). We had the radio on in the room. Somewhere around half time the radio faded into the background, things were happening.

It wasn't going as smoothly as you'd want. I watched the monitors as the baby (we already knew that he was Matthew John, to be called Matty after J's grandad)'s heartbeat dropped to single figures. Single figures was the moment that I started to panic.

Suddenly there were additional midwives in the room, anaesthetists if I remember correctly, people that just suddenly appeared. The baby would need some help to arrive.

The Ventouse package arrived. The wrapper started to be torn and my pretty damn incredible wife decided 'sod this for a game of soldiers' and made sure that the baby arrived naturally.

As with his elder brother, there was a trip to the resuscitation table. Again there was no 'father cutting the umbilical cord' but there was worry then there was relief.

And there was a second perfect son.

9th November 2000. 8.20pm. Thirteen years ago.

There are no children in this house now, it's all teenagers now. The baby asked for (and got) Hugo Boss polo shirts, Call of Duty Ghosts and tickets to see Drake next year for his birthday.

Life moves on apace. It's fantastic.

Happy Birthday Matty.

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