I woke up this morning with two chubby legs hanging over my face, and a small padded bum pressed against my cheek. This small bum proceeded to trumpet me a very loud good morning, and so began my day. At just over three months old and a little drool genius, Daisy is not only the apple of our eye, but the whole fruit basket. So I’m going to go back to the beginning and tell the tale of our fruit baskets arrival.
My waters had popped at 11:15pm on the 16th of May. It was nine days before my due date and I’d felt iffy since 5am that morning. Having called his boss to tell him the baby might be on the way, my partner had supported me in my ‘ I think this is it’ pacing of the house and eating dominoes until 6pm,when we gave up and decided our baby was too comfy and staying put. We’d climbed into bed at 10:40 by 10:55 Matthew was asleep. I was just in the process of rolling over when I felt the dull pop. It was reminiscent of water balloons from my childhood and the wet thud of them hitting the ground. I’d never rolled out of bed so fast in my whole life…as I stood on the towel ,which luckily had been hanging over the radiator, both Matthew and I started to laugh… ‘You’re definetly not going to work tomorrow honey’ I said.
The bumpiness of the drive to the hospital felt like some otherworldly terrain trying to shake the baby free…also no one had told me that when your water breaks it’s not the whole thing that goes. There’s quite a few more miles left in the baby tank that will make its appearance felt with various bumps and movement.
I remember my partner and I arriving at the maternity hospital and thinking ‘this is it, I might be going home with a baby tomorrow’ shortly followed by the thought ‘ I hope my vagina proves to be a worthy exit door’
Too many stories of said exit doors blowing off their hinges had me worried for its sturdiness.
So here we where, gearing up but no contractions, sitting in the assessment room waiting to be told what to do…I could hear Daisy’s heartbeat as they’d hooked me up to check it out along with my own. That’s when I spotted the spider making it’s way along the top of the curtain. It came to a stop directly in view of the bottom of the bed. In that moment of early labour clarity and curiosity all I could think was ‘That spider has its own live, One Born Every Minute show’
‘We’re going to send you home and book you to come back in 24 hours’ said the friendly midwife. With no contractions in the vicinity I was being sent home to see if they would start on their own and if not it would be the hormone drip to induce me. I felt disappointed…as i waddled off the bed…dignity abandoned,there’s something about having a large light beam into your cervix that’ll do that, i decided some snacks where in order. ’24 hour Tesco it is.’ said Matthew.
Bidding a silent farewell to the spider we exited the room to what sounded like an animal being tortured alive-
‘It’s just the girl giving birth next door.’ said the still smiling midwife as she walked us out.