Lolly Takes A Trip To The Hospital

I'm still not convinced that it's not wind (which, when it eventually comes to the light of day, will flutter those flags in Belgium again), but I have had a night full of regular, scarily intense contractions.

I noticed discomfort when talking to a friend on the phone - we both got distracted because we heard The Biggest Loser coming on....... - and as soon as I finished talking with her, BANG! the first one hit. Then like clockwork, the next just 2 minutes later. Steve and I discussed, rather wearily, what to do and decided to ride it out for another half hour before paging Dr Luffley.

And for the next half hour, along they came, every 2-3 minutes.

When I paged him, my doctor rang back and didn't even let me finish telling him that I thought it might be Simon (if anyone knows South Park, they'll get the reference to Simon, Mr and Mrs Hanky's son....born with a nut in his head....). He told me to get straight to the Delivery Ward. Dammit, I was on day 2 of my hair washing "regime" as well, so old greasy-ball me was taken to spend an uncomfortable night in hospital being poked, prodded, observed and mostly basically left to cope through pretty intense and erractically timed contractions.

To cut a long story short, everything is still closed/in its right place/stored in overhead lockers and in fact, our little Lolly goes to the top of the class once again for measuring a none-too-shabby 25 weeks 3 days today (by my dates, I'm only 24 weeks 4 days) and an impressive "portly" 800g. Apparently a 28 weeker is around 1kg, so we're more than ahead of target. This kid will be a Grade 1 equivalent and doing long division by the time T-Zero comes around.

I cannot believe I dodged this bullet. I vowed when I was lying in there overnight that if I got out of this one unscathed and got to come home, both of us all intact and still attached to each other, that I would be making some changes in my thoughts. This episode has come off the back of some news that yesterday rocked my world, more due to the audacity of the person who divulged and the way in which it was handled (I believe the term is "divide and conquer"?), as is the pattern of this person to make me privy to information that I don't need to know and always without the safety net of telling me when I am with my husband - which, given the family connection, would make far more sense.

And today, strangely, I have a sense of calm and direction and focus. This news no longer concerns me. I realise I try and fit into "the norm" of the fertile/conception world, outside of my large supportive circle, and I just figured out that I don't need to. Special is good, different is better. I know what I have to do, I know what and who is important to me and to whom I am important. Another test I do believe, and we've passed I reckon.

Oh, and never one to not share a good looking happy snap, CHECK the gorgeous little button nose on this: