GO FASTER...SLOW DOWN!

I’m what I like to call a speed birther. Once I get started I can’t stop. With my first baby, Isaac, I felt my first contraction at 9am and he was born the same day at 5.30pm. With my second baby, Oscar, who came almost exactly a year later, I felt my first contraction at 6am and he was born just after 10am. This would be great, only I live about an hour and a half away from the hospital and unfortunately for him, my other half has acted as chauffer on both occasions.

For my first birth poor old daddy was at work in town, an hour away on the bus, by the time he got home Isaac was thinking of making an imminent appearance, but, not having given birth before I didn’t realise. I walked down the lane to meet him off the bus just a few hours before Isaac was born. I thought there was something funny going on, I even stopped to chat to the postman on the way down but neither of us realised the urgency of the situation; if you fancy a giggle you can read that birth story here – my ignorance to the situation is fairly amusing.  With Oscar there was no hanging about, Ben practically threw me into the car at the first twinge and it was pedal to the metal along winding country lanes and rural A Roads all the way to the hospital. Ben is usually quite a careful driver and during the later stage of my pregnancy I was very uncomfortable so we had been going VERY carefully, especially around bends. On this particular day we started off in a similar vein... until a strange sensation came over me...and I began to realise... THE BABY WAS COMING - NOW.

So then started my hysterical demands on poor old Bens driving skills... I’d shout “GO FASTER we need to get there the baby is coming out!!!”... so he’d speed up... as soon as he’d got going I’d get a contraction and shout “What do you think you’re doing – SLOW DOWN IT HURTS YOU BOOB”, by the time he’d slowed down the contraction had passed and I’d yell, “GET GOING – THE BABY IS COMING NOW”... this went on an on with me alternating my instructions and shouting abuse at him for doing it wrong for most of the journey, as the contractions got closer together so did my requests... the car looked like a learner driver was at the wheel, bunnyhopping the clutch all the way down the road, but my lovely Ben never questioned my demands, just shut up and did what he was told.

Eventually we did get to the hospital and Oscar was born just half an hour later... but I’m still not sure who was more pleased to drive into that hospital car park; me, the car or Ben!