If the baby doesn't come in 90 minutes, then the pizza is free…

Yesterday was a blur of panic and quick dressing routines, along with pain, blue goo and some wildly erratic driving.
But perhaps I’m not being clear, and there’s just the slight possibility that some of my relatives are busy picking themselves up off the floor (or diving for the scotch bottle), so I’d better clarify. But first, a word from one of our commentators:
“They should make a reality show about your family. I have never heard of one family suffering so much…”
Well, if the cheque has enough zeroes in it, I’m game. Something has to pay for the mortgage.
Anyway, yesterday afternoon, about five(ish), Di leant down to help the kids pack away some books, when she was struck by a sudden and quite agonising pain in the abdomen. Oh boy. We’ve been here before. She lay down for a little while to see if it would pass, and I put the kids into the bath. The pain remained (and she was going a funny gray colour), so in the space of about ten minutes I:

  • Sloppily dressed the kids
  • Called some friends to look after the kids, with whoever answered the phone first being the “winner”. (Thanks Liz!)
  • Bundled everyone into the car
  • Drove erratically to hospital (without crashing into anything)
  • Dropped the kids off with Liz
  • Back to the hospital for scanning, contraction checks and the inevitable blue goo that they use for the heartbeat monitors

After about half an hour’s checking, there’s no contractions, just pain. They keep her hooked up to monitors just to be on the safe side, but it transpires based on the checks that it’s not a contraction based pain — the best guess is that she’s strained a ligament in her back crouching down. So after about ninety minutes in hospital, we’re back out the door again. It’s a new record for us, and we seem to be speeding up. If we maintain this trend, and continue returning about every two weeks, by the time the baby’s actually due to be born, we’ll need a drive through window.
So for the rest of the week, it’ll be heavy rest for Di, and hopefully less stress for me. Unless, of course, that reality TV show deal comes to fruition…

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