Skip to main content

Incoming!

It's the morning of June 14th 2012. Lisette is 9 months pregnant. Well 9 months and a day; she was due to give birth yesterday.

I've attended the classes and so I know that kids aren't like microwave meals. They don't click and ding in exactly 3 minutes. They can come at any time. So for the last month that's pretty much what I've been expecting. Imminent arrival. It hasn't happened. But something's happening now...

Lisette woke in the night. This isn't unusual at all. Since Lisette started on maternity leave she's pretty much adopted (the cat) Maggie's lifestyle. That is to say, she has about 3 or 4 sleeps a day and prowls the house during the night. Though thankfully she hasn't yet tried to use the catflap.

But last night was different. When Lisette woke she felt a little strange. Not "I'm going into labour" strange; more "I've eaten a hot Thai curry" strange. As it happened she had eaten a hottish curry the night before. But lets not mince words; this was, sorry, this *is* labour.

The contractions (after they'd been happening for 4 hours Lisette agreed that it probably wasn't a dicky tummy after all) are currently spaced about 5 minutes apart and they last about a minute. I know this as it's my job to time the contractions. We've gone high tech for that; we're using an app on Lisette's iPhone. When one starts Lisette cries "push the button" and I hit Start. Then when it's done she cries "'K" and I hit Stop. I've had more taxing jobs.

Though nature has conspired to help me sympathise. In a cruel twist of fate I have this week developed a minor medical condition (I'll spare you the details) which means I've been doing a fair amount of groaning myself. It's probably not that comparable but I like to think it helps me to empathise.

Lisette called the hospital and they said it was too early to go in. "Take paracetamol and have a bath" they said. Lisette's done both. It doesn't seem to have made any discernible difference. Maybe that's their stock advice to stop people going to the hospital too early. I'll sign off for now I think, I guess it'll all kick off soon. Exciting! Scary... Exciting!
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Be ye here

Working out where to go on holiday has always seemed like slightly hard work. How do you choose? Do we go to Italy? We've been before. Do we go to France? They'll only want us to wear Speedos at the swimming pool. So where shall we go? We were delighted when we discovered a friend in Belfast, who had recently had a baby, would be up for a visit. A mutual friend of ours, was also planning a trip back to Ireland from where he lives. We've known each other for 25 years now, and have travelled before as a group. Why not get the band back together and spend some time in Ireland this summer? That was the thought, and so the Reilly family made plans. Passage was booked on the Liverpool to Belfast ferry. Grandma Reilly kindly leant her car to the Twickenham Reillys, so that myself, Lisette and the boys could roll Northwards and over the Irish Sea to Ireland. We were leaving an English summer that was that rarest of things: warm and sunny. The week before we'd left, Twicke...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cable Cars and Credit Cards

I proferred the binbag. "All the rubbish; in here please". Conor turned to his right, "Una, will you climb in now?" Una grinned and mimed throwing objects into the sack. "There's my hopes and dreams right there Conor." Conor, Una, Lisette and I have known each other for half our lives. Well; Conor's not quite there - he's the elder statesman of our group. We met when we were working for British Airways as students, and living in Hounslow's finest dodgy digs. Since that time we've been scattered to the four winds; Una to Ireland, Conor to Switzerland. Lisette and I, well, maybe 3 miles tops to Twickenham. In seeking a mutual meeting place we found ourselves reaching for the logistically logical location: Italy. (I know; like a stepladder where you least expect it.) In keeping with how we first got to know one another, luxury accomodation was not our priority. We decided to camp. Can there be a fuller way to challenge your fear of...
4 comments
Read more

Father's Day Advice

When I was 16 years old, my father gave me a piece of advice that dramatically changed me. His advice changed my interactions with the world. I rather doubt he thought it would have such impact, but change me it did. Having finished my mandatory schooling, I had recently started attending sixth form college. I was taking A-levels in Maths, Computer Science and Economics. I found I took to the former 2 subjects like a duck to water. They weren't a struggle, they were interesting and I had a natural aptitude. For want of a better phrase, I could "do it". However, Economics was a different kettle of fish. It did not fit in my head. I could not grok it. I sat there, in lesson after lesson, listening hard to Terri Wilcox explaining Keynes, Monetarism, supply and demand. Occasionally she deviated and talked about her beloved Blackburn Rovers. It did not go in. Not the Economics and certainly not the football. At the end of each sentence uttered I found myself more bewilder...
Post a Comment
Read more