Not Much Happening Here

It is the day after Lynne's due date. The bag is packed for the hospital, we are ready to go, mentally prepared and so on, but nothing else is happening. Lynne has the odd twinge, she reckons that's her cervix is thinning, but nothing that could be described as a contraction. Right now she is asleep.

I don't know what to do with myself. Waiting is always the hardest part. The doctor told Lynne on Wednesday that he thought the baby would come before the weekend, but the weekend is here and there is no sign of it. What the hell does he know, he's only a GP. The only other useful thing that he said was to smuggle some gin and tonic into the hospital, because it would be nice to know it was there.

Our parents are phoning excitedly everyday. Lynne has finally convinced her mother that we do not need to put sterilizing fluid in the steam sterilizer. This has been a long running arguement, conducted mostly out of my hearing, but which Lynne assures me has been going on since we got the sterilizer 3 months ago. Lynne's mum said she was sorry, she is just worried.

Aren't we all. My dad rang up yesterday morning, purely to see if there was any news, but somehow we managed to get into a huge arguement about immigration. My dad is an old-school bigot and self-confessed Little Englander. We ended up yelling at each other and I told him what he was saying was pathetic. Just when I thought we were on the point of saying things to each other that there was no coming back from, he said, 'Well, thats the world set to rights then. Just phoning to see that the pair of you were alright. Bye.' Then he hung up, leaving me wrung out and wondering what had happened.