Before it turned scary!

Where to start with my story? 

When I had the baby? When I was admitted to hospital? 

I’ll quickly go further back, to the day I found out I was pregnant. I remember it well, mainly I’m sure, because I found out I was pregnant after god knows how many negative tests, yet it was still a huge surprise.

But also it was Harry and Megan’s wedding day, FA Cup Final day and I had two parties that day where the fizz was flowing! So straight away the phrase ‘ah I don’t think I will drink’ became routine.

Rewind 24 hours and as a couple we were oblivious to our position,‬ sat in our garden until it was dark enjoying probably more than one bottle of white wine.

On that ‪Saturday lunch time‬ something made me do a test. Whether it was the unexpected emotion of the Royal Wedding or the irrational response to how my boyfriend had hung a mirror, I don’t know. I also mistook the smell of coffee for corned beef in the office the day before, so maybe I should have drawn something from that?

But all of those things, combined with a wonder of when my last period actually was, meant I took myself upstairs to pee on a stick and minutes later the word ‘pregnant’ popped up.

I had a fairly normal pregnancy for a while. Didn’t suffer morning sickness but the tiredness was something I had never experienced before.

I had to have regular scans because I’d been to Costa Rica within six months prior to being pregnant. While there were no real reasons to be concerned, the guidelines were for me to have regular check ups to make sure all was OK due to the Zika virus. It was fine by us as it meant we got to see baby every 4-6 weeks on the monitor. 

I felt OK in general, had a fairly neat bump and was enjoying being pregnant and looking forward to the adventure of motherhood. We’d found out we were having a girl and were over the moon.

Our parents were equally delighted! His Mam and Dad clapped their hands with genuine glee at the prospect of becoming Grandparents for a fourth time.

Mine were absolutely buzzing too and ended up having far too much to drink on the night they found out they were going to get a grandchild. 

I’ll never forget that night, shortly before last orders, a very drunken Grandad-to-be raised both his arms in the air and professed with utter pride “I’m going to be a Grandad!"

                                                     The night before we found out!