I was one of the most excited pregnant people you could imagine. Especially after I got past the dreaded three month mark. Many miscarriages had left me wary, okay petrified, and when I felt him move and saw him fully formed on the scan it set the agenda for much excitement. This was the baby that I was going to bring home.
I spent hours choosing a colour scheme for his room – I knew he was a boy and I knew I wanted wallpaper, yes I was obsessed with wallpaper borders! I pored over magazines, catalogues and online shops trying to choose the perfect cot, the most comfortable pram, the sturdiest rocker. The most calming wallpaper borders. You name it I was expert in it. I had visions of bringing home my baby swaddled in soft blankets, I could picture the soft lighting, hear the lullabies that would fill the air and I could see in my mind’s eye the perfect contented baby.
When I wasn’t choosing baby products I was working. Making the most of the final months that I was able to work impossibly long hours . I knew that things would change after he was born and that my return to work would be different, I wouldn’t be able to do the long hours and so I was super organized in putting structures in place to make an easy transition from working fanatic to working mother.
At 24 weeks I was having problems getting into my work clothes. Hell, I was even having trouble getting into my pajamas. It wasn’t my stomach – that wasn’t even that big. But Lord my ankles were huge.
I went to the chemist to get some pressurized stockings and by some strange twist of fate the pharmacist said I needed a doctor’s letter to get the stockings. You should have heard me curse. What a ridiculous waste of my time. Not to mention the doctor’s.
I stomped into the doctor’s room’s to get the note. I REALLY REALLY needed the stockings and when he took my blood pressure and balked I wasn’t that surprised. I was fuming, of course my blood pressure was high. But when he calmly told me that I had to be admitted to hospital immediately I thought my fury was interfering with my hearing.
I couldn’t even contemplate going to the hospital. It wasn’t in my plan and my plans were watertight. I had to go to work, I had so much to do, there were meetings that needed my input, not to mention wallpapers and linen that had to be picked up from the baby shop.