Welcome to my blog on impending fatherhood. I’m Jim and I turn 50 in September! My wife, Daisy, is a spritely 37. We're expecting our first child in October - hence The Geriatric Dad Blog!
This is a proper, ‘in real life’ read from a man's perspective, so I hope you enjoy it and follow the series as we go through all the ups and downs of impending parenthood.
This week: Daisy suffers a fall...
It's the kind of WhatsApp message you don't want to receive at any time, let alone from your wife who's by herself at home and 31 weeks pregnant.
"I've had a fall. I need to go to hospital."
The first thing that enters your mind on receipt of such a message is something along the lines of, "F*ck.The baby! Is the baby ok? I must get home. Now!"
The second thing is... well, I don't really know. To tell other people, I guess. So I told a colleague sat next to me what had happened and that I needed to get Daisy to hospital pronto. Oh, and I also messaged my boss before hot-footing it out of the front door and into the car.
Our house is 20 minutes up the A1 from the office, then another 30 minutes or so to the hospital. In the opposite direction, back down the A1. It was 3.30pm and they'd said Daisy should get there for 4.30pm – time was going to be tight.
Do NOT crash the car
All through the journey home I was aware that I had to drive as fast as I could – but safely, without endangering myself or other road users.
Funnily enough, I seemed to enter a zone of intense concentration. I had tunnel vision, where everything was in the moment and nothing else mattered. My senses were heightened in a way they have never been before; I anticipated and saw the movement of every other car, van and lorry.
The sole purpose of my life in those 20 minutes was to get to Daisy and Sprout as quickly as possible. Then to get them to hospital so they could be checked out.
The last three miles to our house involves a drive down a narrow country lane.
Unbelievably, right at the start of that road I got stuck behind a car with Ukrainian plates (complete with the now familiar blue and yellow flag). They were doing a stoic 20mph, where normally I would do at least double that. Obviously they were unfamiliar with driving in the UK.
There was no chance of overtaking.
I had to be patient.
My mind was like, "How is this possible? I've NEVER seen a Ukrainian car before!"
Then I thought, "Ah! They've probably been through a really tough time in the last few months, so I can't try and get them to pull over. What would they THINK?"
I tucked in a safe distance behind and trundled slowly along for the last three miles. Time seemed to race by as I slowed right down. The panic welled a bit.
But then I asked myself: if it was THAT urgent, surely the midwife Daisy had spoken to would have called her an ambulance. Right?
"I think he's ok. He's still moving"
After what seemed an AGE, I got home. Daisy was waiting outside, looking remarkably calm.
"Are you alright?" I spluttered. The first three words that came out of my mouth. Of course she wasn't.
"My wrists broke my fall," she said. "They hurt. But I don't think they're broken. And I think Sprout is ok. He's still moving. Luckily, bump didn't take the full impact."
She got in the car and off we went, destination Hinchingbrooke Hospital and the Maternity Ward. Back the way I'd just come – back up the country lane for the first three miles.
And BOOM! Just as we got onto the same narrow lane, I rounded a bend and there in front of us was...
A horse.
A bloody horse! That hardly EVER happens. So I slowed right down, passing the rider at an opportune point. She smiled happily and waved at us, unaware of our predicament.
Then it was onto the A47.
And BOOM again! We were immediately stuck in a slow-moving queue of traffic behind a tractor doing 20mph.
A bloody TRACTOR! "Noooo!" I said in despair as we waited our turn to get past.
To my credit (Daisy might not agree entirely) I stayed calm and eventually overtook the tractor. From there, it was a straight run down the A1 to Hinchingbrooke at a speed a traffic cop might not have appreciated had we been caught.
Luckily, we weren't caught and no more journey-related problems were encountered.
Daisy needed an 'Anti-D' injection
Now, you might all be thinking, 'WHAT DRAMA'!
And you might be thinking that my reaction was a tad over the top. But there was an important subtext to how seriously I took Daisy's fall.
Because she has an O-neg blood group, we need to be VERY careful if she experiences any kind of fall, or other accident, or impact on her bump.
Why? Because if baby Sprout has a different blood group, if too many of his cells get into Daisy's blood stream, there could be trouble. Daisy's autoimmune system in that instance might think Sprout is a threat and produce a shitload of antibodies to expel and potentially kill him.
Our docs and midwife knew only too well about this, so they'd forewarned us that an 'Anti-D' injection would likely have to be administered if Daisy suffered any kind of fall or bump on her bump.
So it was that we had to go to the hospital.
When we arrived, we were ushered straight through. The obstetrics team were brilliant. They asked what had happened, how hard the fall was, and explained what was going to happen next.
Daisy had to have some tests: blood pressure (fine), urine (no blood, which was good), plus a blood test to check for the amount of baby cells in circulation in her system. This was whisked off to the lab pronto.
They also listened in on Sprout's heartbeat, which was strong and thundering along at 140 beats a minute. All good there too.
Then an injection of Anti-D was administered. Its aim? To prevent Daisy producing the antibodies that would be so dangerous to Sprout.
And after half an hour of observations, we were allowed to go home again, with the midwife saying because we'd reacted so quickly and got things dealt with, the risk of any harm coming to Sprout from the fall was minimal.
Emotional rollercoaster
As I write this a few days after the event, I can happily report everything is now fine.
But - oh my - what an emotional rollercoaster.
And now here I am, sat here typing this in the office, thinking (somewhat selfishly) how stressy things are for me currently.
I've spent much of the last couple of weeks a bit of a wreck.
In addition to all the drama accompanying Daisy and Sprout, I've had just about the worst week of my career. I shan't go into details, as that's not what this blog is about. Suffice to say I'll work hard at getting through and am sure things will be good on the other side. We all go through these patches, right?
But for career trouble to happen at the same time as your wife being seven months pregnant... there is little respite, little opportunity to escape it all.
Given some of the underlying health problems I've had with significantly bad hypertension (which once hospitalised me for a week) I do need to have space to relax from time to time.
Not to mention how hot it's been. That has sapped both our energies.
Nursery is sorted!
On the positive side, we've got the nursery sorted now.
It comprises: a changing table, a next-to-me crib, a single bed, a Moses basket, a toy chest filled with cuddly toys and a wardrobe for Sprout's already burgeoning collection of clothes. All of which Daisy has ironed in readiness!
Daisy has worked far harder than me on prepping the his nursery. She's decorated it, put up new curtains and a blackout blind.
My contribution was to add a shimmering montage of fun undersea stickers on the nursery walls - fish, starfish and bubbles, the aim being to create a beautiful and calming underwater theme for Sprout to enjoy. I'll bet he ends up preferring dinosaurs!
Our plan is for Sprout to sleep in the same room as us for the first few weeks. Then, when ready (probably when I go back to work) he'll move into the nursery. At that point, we'll take it in turns sleeping in there with him, tending to him, feeding him, while the other one gets some rest.
That's the plan, anyway.
I have a feeling it's a plan that might just change once Sprout is out...
Next time: I help organise a surprise baby shower for Daisy.
Huzzah!!! See you then.