Anthony McIntyre recalls the joyous birth of his daughter on this day in 2001.


Today marks the first day in the journey of my daughter into her twenties, her teenage years now behind her. It is a landmark. 

I vividly recall her birth on a cool Friday morning, the 23rd of February, 2001. When she emerged from my wife's aching and exhausted body after a long slow labour, her piercing eyes looked into mine. They say at that point, children cannot focus and therefore do not see the face in front of them. I much prefer the comforting narrative that I was the first person she set eyes on. We were, it seemed, locked in one of time's eternal moments, always to exist within my memory. She of course remembers it as well as she does me being born.

If there is a moment to equal the birth of a child, I am yet to discover what it is. The previous day, my wife lay in labour. It was her first child and the territory was completely new to her. As she lay on her bed, she read an attack launched against her in the Andersonstown News. She had offended it by winning a poetry prize. That's how it was back then. She was more than capable when it came to dealing with her detractors, giving it back in spades.

I had left her side at the hospital around seven hours earlier to return home for a shower and shave. I was standing at the mirror, razor in hand when the call came through. A nurse told me my wife was going into the delivery suite. It was almost two in the morning. I rang a taxi. The best they could do was an hour. No good. I ran from our home in Springhill through Westrock and the Whiterock, down the Donegal Road and into the Royal Maternity. After a further grueling four hours, during which my wife declined any serious pain relief, the zenith of our journey was reached. A star was born.

I raced to town to pick up the biggest bunch of flowers I could lay my hands on. I was extra cautious crossing the West Link at the Grosvenor Road. I had a new daughter and wanted to see her again so none of my usual nonchalant jaywalking, which had so traumatised my mother when I first got out of prison. Back to the hospital to deliver the flowers and then home to Springhill to inform those stalwarts of neighbours - who had not succumbed to the pressure to ostracise us - of the news.

That evening I headed out for celebratory drinks in the Grosvenor's Oasis Bar with Brendan Hughes and Tommy McReynolds, two of my closest friends. Brandy was on the go and The Dark was roaring for someone to come up with a cigar. Then we celebrated her arrival with booze. Tonight, she and I celebrate twenty years on, brandy for me, spiced rum for her. 


Our hardy little bear has made the journey from Belfast's Royal Maternity to Dublin's Trinity College where she is now a second year undergraduate. She set out on that trek at three minutes past seven in the morning. Sentimental and schmaltzy, for sure, given the day that is in it - for me, on that morning in the Republic of Springhill, a Queen brought forth a Princess. 

⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Twenty Years Ago

Anthony McIntyre recalls the joyous birth of his daughter on this day in 2001.


Today marks the first day in the journey of my daughter into her twenties, her teenage years now behind her. It is a landmark. 

I vividly recall her birth on a cool Friday morning, the 23rd of February, 2001. When she emerged from my wife's aching and exhausted body after a long slow labour, her piercing eyes looked into mine. They say at that point, children cannot focus and therefore do not see the face in front of them. I much prefer the comforting narrative that I was the first person she set eyes on. We were, it seemed, locked in one of time's eternal moments, always to exist within my memory. She of course remembers it as well as she does me being born.

If there is a moment to equal the birth of a child, I am yet to discover what it is. The previous day, my wife lay in labour. It was her first child and the territory was completely new to her. As she lay on her bed, she read an attack launched against her in the Andersonstown News. She had offended it by winning a poetry prize. That's how it was back then. She was more than capable when it came to dealing with her detractors, giving it back in spades.

I had left her side at the hospital around seven hours earlier to return home for a shower and shave. I was standing at the mirror, razor in hand when the call came through. A nurse told me my wife was going into the delivery suite. It was almost two in the morning. I rang a taxi. The best they could do was an hour. No good. I ran from our home in Springhill through Westrock and the Whiterock, down the Donegal Road and into the Royal Maternity. After a further grueling four hours, during which my wife declined any serious pain relief, the zenith of our journey was reached. A star was born.

I raced to town to pick up the biggest bunch of flowers I could lay my hands on. I was extra cautious crossing the West Link at the Grosvenor Road. I had a new daughter and wanted to see her again so none of my usual nonchalant jaywalking, which had so traumatised my mother when I first got out of prison. Back to the hospital to deliver the flowers and then home to Springhill to inform those stalwarts of neighbours - who had not succumbed to the pressure to ostracise us - of the news.

That evening I headed out for celebratory drinks in the Grosvenor's Oasis Bar with Brendan Hughes and Tommy McReynolds, two of my closest friends. Brandy was on the go and The Dark was roaring for someone to come up with a cigar. Then we celebrated her arrival with booze. Tonight, she and I celebrate twenty years on, brandy for me, spiced rum for her. 


Our hardy little bear has made the journey from Belfast's Royal Maternity to Dublin's Trinity College where she is now a second year undergraduate. She set out on that trek at three minutes past seven in the morning. Sentimental and schmaltzy, for sure, given the day that is in it - for me, on that morning in the Republic of Springhill, a Queen brought forth a Princess. 

⏩Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

12 comments:

  1. Lá beirthe shona duit Fírinne, landed jam side up with this beautiful young woman ,lovely tribute ,

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  2. Thanks to everyone for the heartwarming comments.

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  3. Lovely Words on a very special day. I wish i could write like that. !!

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  4. Lovely way to mark a milestone. Good photos too.

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  5. Born in time to see the Reds win a treble. How about repeating the trick next season Tony 😏 ? # Stevie G ➡ Anfield

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  6. 2001 only seems like 5 yrs ago. Lost both my parents, & only 2 brothers in the meantime. Will any of us be here in 2041?

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  7. A nice moving piece to read in these dark times. Congrats to you.

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