Groundhog Day

A celebration too soon. After putting Lucas to bed with stories and lots of kisses I promised I’d be there in the morning. I thought I could at least guarantee him that.

Readmitted at 4.30 this morning with exactly the same as last week. Felt absolutely fine. Got up, went downstairs to get a drink, back into bed and there started five hours worth of intensely painful contractions and labour pain. After all my concerns about going to my local hospital to deliver it turned out they didn’t have any neonatal cots anyway and neither did Queen Charlotte’s. The NHS is marvellous if you can get them to let you in the door.

So they put me on drugs to slow things down and we made another ambulance dash,this time with more potholes. I’ve been transferred across London to St Mary’s in Paddington. Hospital no. 4. It’s like Groundhog day. As in the movie, am I supposed to learn something about myself in each reiteration? All seems to be quiet for now but we’ll see.

This would never happen in Casualty. I would have given birth by now in an ambulance, assisted only by an alcoholic paramedic seeking redemption, or on my bathroom floor over a tearful reunion with a long lost sibling. Life isn’t like that though is it. The narrative is much less neat and a bit more boring.


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