Thursday morning was spent timing contractions and
walking back and forth. By mid-afternoon Simon made me phone the labour ward. We got there about five o’clock and I was immediately
hooked up to a monitor. Yes labour was
happening and yes, my waters had broken.
The news that they were broken truly astounded me. I
realised that this meant that actually, they had more than likely been broken
since our crap flask of tea experience, six days before.
I relayed this to the
midwife, tears streaming. I then remembered that at my last
check the midwife had not insisted on examining me but had accepted my ‘I’m not
sure. I think it’s wee,’ explanation.
Huh, the explanation
of a first time pregnant woman. Surely there’s a lesson to be learnt there? Yes, indeed, but I didn’t know at this point, just how
much of a lesson.
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