On Christmas Eve, having just taken a wonderful Christmas ham out of the oven, which I had queued for at the butchers that morning, I admitted ‘defeat’ and told my husband that we had to go to the hospital to check out why I hadn’t been feeling right the past week.
The maternity unit nearest to us was shut, so we bundled ourselves and the youngest (in his PJs!) into the car and twenty five minutes later we arrived. My husband and big brother stayed in the car whilst I went in: "I won’t be long I’ll just get checked out" - famous last words!
Fast forward nearly an hour and the midwife frightened my husband half to death by knocking on his car window and informing him that I was in early labour!