We arrived on the stifling hot ward just before 4pm. Our feet were squeaking as our shoes hit the floor and that hospital smell wrapped itself around us easily and quickly. We’d been expected. They’d been waiting for us. We were led onto the same antenatal ward we’d visited briefly before The Toddler’s birth and a sense of calm settled itself around me at last. I felt safe then. I knew that what would be now, would be.
We were shown to a bed and my ankles were measured for support stockings; I was to wear these for the entire stay in hospital. My order was taken for dinner and a student midwife was quickly by my side to take blood pressure, pulse and temperature. And then the CTG. By this point I had my own straps so I was hooked up quickly. And those numbers again. Still erratic, still confusing.
After 30 minutes, I was taken from the CTG and we were left to ‘relax’ for a couple of hours. Hard to do with the lady in the bed opposite labouring fairly loudly. And then it struck me….