Over the last few months I have spent a lot of time at the Antenatal Day Unit (ANDU). Despite much of the time being bored out of my tiny mind, it is quite an exciting place but, for the moment, the excitement always seems to be happening to other people.
You see there are three day beds and a comfy chair in my bit of the ANDU and despite curtains being there to protect what modesty pregnant women have left, that is all they are-curtains.
Just right for nosey bloggers to totally eaves drop on her poor, unsuspecting fellow patients.
Take the poor woman who rocked up alone with what looked like an 18 month old baby for a sweep.
I heard every part of that procedure and the uncomfortable oooos and aaaahhhhs which followed.
Then the women who have had reduced foetal movement and are strapped up to heart monitors for an hour or so. You have your heart in your mouth waiting for that heart beat to be picked up on the monitor.
There was a funny one this week when a lady couldn’t decide whether her waters had broken or if she’d had a wee. I had to put my magazine over my face to stop her seeing me stifle a giggle. Only pregnant women can understand that delightful feeling.
There’s been women whose waters have broken and have had appointments made for them the following day should labour not have started automatically.
Then there’s the first time mothers worrying about everything. I heard one poor lady asking the midwife what she should bring with her the following day.
The only problem with, what has become one of my favourite pastimes is you never get to hear about what happens next.
I was being seen myself so I never got to find out if the woman had wet herself or her waters had indeed broken.
Did the sweep make the woman with the baby go into labour?
It’s like watching a soap opera every time I go in there but I never get to see the next episode.
For me? Well, during my last visit, the lovely midwives described me as part of the furniture. I think they might even miss me when it’s finally my time.
If any ladies have been listening to my story from behind the curtains, I am still here.