Monday, 5 August 2013

#MyRoyalBaby

It took a while - initial contractions unbelievably started on 3 July - but we got there in the end. Finally. Mini Martini - the final installment - decided to arrive on the same day as HRH Prince George - but only just. 

I had spent most of the day watching the news green with envy that Kate Middleton had gone into labour - I was seriously starting to question whether there actually was a baby in there, or in fact, if I had just eaten too many cakes. Quite possible. We'd also just found out that anyone that gave birth on the same day as Kate would be eligible for a very exclusive coin from the Royal Mint. Naturally, I'd set my sights on that. 

Lying in bed, watching the 10 O'Clock News celebrating the birth of a boy, the third in line to the throne, Mr. Martini told me that I'd let the family down by not securing one of these coins. (He was joking, of course, but I was just miserable that it was another day closer to the dreaded induction, that I had already refused but was getting increasing pressure from the midwives to do this.) It was probably that comment that finally spurred me into action. Cue seriously painful contractions. It was half past ten. 

We called the parents (they were on standby to look after the other children). We realised we needed to leave RIGHT NOW - my parents were still a good 15 minutes away. Mr. M. knocked on the neighbours' door and asked them to come in and wait for my parents to arrive. They obliged - I dread to think what I looked like - and Mr. M. drove like a maniac to Kingston hospital. 

I went up to the maternity ward on my own while he parked the car (this story has a familiar ring to it). There was some poor other lady also in labour in the waiting room - I'm afraid that she was still waiting while I got ushered straight through into a room. 

The midwife examined me - only 5 cm dilated apparently. She left the room. Mr. M. joined me - and mentioned that I had 23 minutes to get the coin. The midwife was no where to be seen. Clearly, she didn't think it was serious. She was wrong.

Mr. M. went and found the elusive midwife - after some huffing and puffing (her not me) she came back into the room, and proceeded to sort through some paperwork. She almost missed the delivery of the child. Well done.

All done in 25 minutes. Can't say fairer than that. This will definitely be our last, so I'm making the most of every minute with the absolutely darling newborn. He is absolutely gorgeous. And yes, we'll be getting that coin. Result. 

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