39 Weeks (12 page)

It was another morning off work, which they weren’t too happy about, as I’d already had a morning off to go and see the doctor the first time, the same day I’d espied
Matt the twonk, and then I’d had to leave work early the following Tuesday for my first prenatal, so one way or another they were fairly hacked off about the amount of time I was spending having medical appointments. Grahame had even asked me if everything was alright, but I’d stonewalled him by vaguely mentioning something about women’s problems, to which being typically male he’d backed off straight away and didn’t ask me anything else.
Sometimes the whole male uselessness
, ignorance,
and lack of empathy can so work in your favour
can’t it?

The prenatal was a breeze,
the usual
bit
of hanging around
that
anythin
g National H
ealth related
invariably involves
, and being in such close proximity to so many other pregnant women at various stages of their pregnancy while we all waited our turn was a bit of an e
ye opener and gave me a
more realistic clue as to what I might expect in the next few months, but the actual check up was
easy, no pain involved at all
, they just weighed me, took my blood pressure and asked me a few questions
. Only one fly in the ointment, on that day anyway, and that was the urine sample I had to take with me.

Sounds so simple doesn’t it when the doctor says ‘bring a urine sample’, the reality however is not so simple. A major problem for me was what to put it in and how big that receptacle might have to be, I mean how much pee do they need, a drop or a litre? I had no idea. I decided too much was better than too li
ttle, but what to put it in
was the question
?
After much deliberation and kitchen cupb
oard searching, I came up with an almost used up ketchup bottle, having rejected a jam jar as not being leak-proof, and a mustard jar that had been stuck at the back of the cupboard unused since I’d moved in, for the same reason. I rinsed out the ketchup bottle, not without difficulty, then filled it with water and laid it on its side on a sheet of kitchen roll to test its leak-proofness. It wasn’t a total success but it would have to do I decided.

The next problem was how to actually get the pee in the bottle
. I had a vision of trying to pee in the very narrow neck of the bottle but that obviously was never going to work. In the end I
used
a jug and poured the contents in to the narrow necked bottle afterwards. The only problem I had after that was carrying the damm thing around with me all morning, secretly stashed in the corner of my largest handbag, and making sure it didn’t tip over. When I finally got to hand over my specimen the nurse laughed and gave me a couple of small neat little screw top plastic bottles that apparently I should have been given by the doc
tor, but he’d forgotten, and she
told
me
to use them in future as they only needed a small amount
of urine
to do the test.
Anyway it all went ok and evidently
everything was normal. Huh normal for them maybe I thought but decidedly un-normal for me.

The plan
this morning
was
to pick Shelley up on the way to the hospital
, so I drove
over to hers trying not to think
about how much I needed the loo and
s
he was ready
and waiting when I got there
. She
jumped in the car
straight away
,
and we pulled off
without delay
.

‘You ok? You look like you’re in pain.’

I explained briefly about the full bladder thing, which she thought was highly amusing and started laughing at my discomfort.

‘Don’
t laugh
or you’ll start me off
,
and I really can’t afford to
be
laugh
ing
at anything right at this moment
, the consequences would not be good. So how’s it going with Nick?’ I asked hoping to divert the conversation away from any peeing
related topics
.

‘Ask me that question tomorrow.’ She said
without explanation
.

‘O . . kay.’ I said intrigued ‘Why, what’s happening tomorrow?’

‘
Not sure
exactly
, but tonight Nick’s taking me to that new Italian place
over on Frith Street, Giorgio’s.’

‘And?’ I queried not having any clue as to what new Italian place she was talking about. I was so out of touch you just wouldn’t believe, but I didn’t ask as that wasn’t exactly the hot issue right now.

‘Well it’s quite posh by all accounts, and expensive, we’re talking twenty quid for a starter
so God knows how much the
actual meal is going to
cost, and he said to dress up a bit because there’s something important he wants to talk to me about. He wouldn’t say what, and thinks he’s being quite mysteri
ous about it, but it can only mean
one thing can’t it?’

‘Oh my God, you think he’s going to propose?’

‘Well what else can it be, posh restaurant, dress up, something important he wants to talk about?
I can’t think w
hat else
it could
be?’

‘Bloody hell. What are
you
going to
say, yes or no?’

‘Well yes of course.’ She said derisively
as if there couldn’t possibly be any other answer.

‘But you’ve only known each other a few weeks,
are you sure about this Shell
?’

‘Yeah I’m sure, I suppose it has all been a bit quick but it’s been long enough to know that he’s the one I want, and I’m pretty sure he feels the same way, otherwise why the important talk tonight?’

I didn’t know what I thought about that, I was pleased for Shelley
of course,
and truth to tell
if you must know
ever so slightly jealous. I just hoped she was reading the signs right, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d got her wires crossed and she’d be g
utted if all he asked her was if she’d
go and see Man U play a game of football or something, especially after all this build up
.
 
 
 

‘So how have you been?’ She asked changing the subject as we pulled into the hospital car park.

‘Ok . . . you know.
Same stuff, different day.’ I said flippantly.

We parked the car and I coughed up a fiver for the privilege, then we walked the mile and a half from the car park to the main entrance. Why they couldn’t have organised it so the car park was at least within staggering distance of the hospital I’ll never understand, I mean what if you’re ill, or old, or what if it’s raining.

We found ou
t from one of the receptionist
s
at the huge desk in the entrance, another graduate from the National Health school of charm, that we’d need to go
virtually
t
o the other side of the building
. Down the main corridor, first left, through the double doors, left again, up in the lift to the first floor, then another corridor
and the waiting area should be at the far end on the right, just follow the blue lines on the floor, she’d said.
Do you suppose that the entire area, maybe the whole floor who knows,
was completely deserted if it was
anyw
here near the main entrance of the
hospital,
I mean when was the last time you went to a hospital for any reason whatsoever and the ward or department you were looking for was ri
ght there just twenty feet away. W
herever it is you need to get to it always seems to involve a twenty to
thirty minute walk
round all the corridors
to get there doesn’t it?

We looked down at our feet and there was a whole rainbow of coloured lines painted on the floor. Do you suppose one man painted them all, it must have taken him ages, painting round all the corridors and up flights of stairs and everything
, one colour at a time. O
r maybe there was a gang of blokes, ‘line painters’, that had a different colour each. Anyway we dutifully followed our blue line, with Shelley singing follow the yellow brick road in a voice that sounded as if she been sucking helium out of a balloon
, until we got to the lifts where the blue line promptly ran out, evidently our blue line painter had got fed up at this point and had bunked off for a tea break.

When we came out of the lift there was no hint of a blue line anywhere
, and the few signs that were on the wall
were in some medical jargonise that neither of us spoke, so were completely useless
to us
. If we could have just found one that said simply ‘scans this way’
that might have been
handy
, but hey this was bureaucracy at its most potent and where better
for it
than in a hospital presumably full of
people in real need of a bit of help and guidance.
Luckily Shelley spotted a very
pregnant woman just as she turned the corner
so we followed her.

Of course when we rounded the corner ourselves the waiting area was full of pregnant woman, some who looked about to go into labour at any moment and some annoyingly as slim as could be
with barely a hint of a bump
. I myself by this stage
was
looking decidedly rounded, not pregnant exactly, but definitely not the sadly missed svelte sel
f that I used to be, and t
hey all
looked thoroughly fed up and tired.

I was surprised to see quite so many
women
waiting. I’d thought an appointment at nine twenty would mean I’d actually see someone at nine twenty, or nine thirty at the latest, but it turned out everyone’s appointment was for nine twenty and it was first come first served. I never learn. We settled in for as long as it was going to take before our turn and I made a mental note, as my baby bible had informed me I was due for another one of these things at twenty weeks, to get here half an hour early next time.

We chatted w
hile we waited
, trying desperately to take my mind off needing the loo,
and I told Shelley about Matt the t
wonk being
one of the builders
at work. She was predictably gob-smacke
d and stared at me
open
mouthed
and with a worried look in her eyes.

‘Did you speak to him?’

‘No I hid round the corner so he wouldn’t see me.’

‘What, for a week you’ve been hiding round the corner
!
’

‘No only that first time, the rest of the week I’ve been staying upstairs avoiding the loo and keeping my fingers crossed
that
he
wouldn’t
have to come
upstairs.’

‘What if he does, what if he recognises you, what then?’

‘Don’t know. I could deny all knowledge, or
just say ‘Hi’ and brazen it out, I really don’t know. W
hat would you do?’

‘Not a clue. You’re still going with this not telling him then?’

‘Too right. My god he’s even more of a twonk than I remember, so even if I tell him and he gives a damm, I really wouldn’t want him hanging around, even at a distance. No definitely not going to tell him, no way.’

‘But should you at least . . .’

‘No I shouldn’t. Don’t even go there.’

‘Okay it’s your call. Must be rough though seeing him every day.’

‘You have no idea. Since seeing him again, and seeing just how much of an arse he is, it’s just made me worry even more what this baby will be like and if it’s going to take after him.’

‘It doesn’t have to, I mean a lot of it will depend on you won’t it? You’ll be the one bringing it up.’

‘Yeah I suppose.’

‘How long is he there for?’

‘Another two weeks at least.’

We both went quiet after that, contemplating all the consequences of him recognising me and having to talk to him. At least I think that’s why Shelley went quiet,
but
maybe she was just musing over
event’s about to take place later that evening.

One of the nurses called my name, and I stood up slowly. The numb bum syndrome
so much more prevalent
now than it had been a couple of weeks ago at the doc
t
ors
, to the point where my legs wouldn’t actually move and Shelley had to support me for a couple of minutes unti
l my circulation started circulating
again.