Chapter 2'

Nine long months later....the evasive blue line came into view. Hallelujah!

 Pregnancy tests back in 1988 were relatively new...many women were still getting confirmation from their doctors. Pete was happy but reserved as he was unsure of the accuracy of the test.

 No amount of jumping around the room in ecstatic joyous relief convinced him ..."Susie you are only 2 days late...

" His mum said the same in shocked surprise when I telephoned her.."7th April next year? Are you sure you are pregnant? How do you know already?"

 But I knew, I 'felt pregnant'...and was instantly nauseous... My mother in law said afterwards it was the longest pregnancy she had ever known. I was not adverse to the 'wait until 12 weeks have passed'. In my ignorance I thought everyone would be as delighted and excited as we were and anyway how could I keep it a secret for another couple of months?

 The beaming smile waned a little as the constant nausea turned into constant vomiting. This quickly became a well executed operation if leaving the house. Armed with plastic carrier bags and kitchen roll I could usually travel no more than twenty minutes before stopping and exiting the car hurriedly.

 The bags were useful for example crossing the old Severn bridge on our return from an 'in law' visit to Wales. No where to stop - so puking into the doubled up bag was the way to go. Pete just held off long enough to pull over on the hard shoulder before he jumped out to throw up to.

Visiting my best friend was a 45 minute journey - I could do this with one stop on route, then as Iarrived she would ensure the front door and toilet door were open wide. I would pretty much abandon the car and fly through to the downstairs loo - just in time.

 Five long months of embarrassing moments pursued. My hormones raged worse than premenstrual tension ..a tidal wave of tears for no reason one moment to hysterical laughing the next...then wanting to bite someone..to giving everyone a hug.

  I had asked Pete to help me in my mission not to 'eat for two'. Being only five foot I realised it would be so easy to be five foot wide after nine months. I became addicted to anything beginning with 'ch'..chips, chocolate and cheese in particular, preferably all on the same plate.

 Pete worked very close to me so he picked me up on the way home one night. I had committed to enjoying chips once a month...only. Driving home I suggested we could have chips from the chip shop as I was starving. My caring husband suggested calmy that we had only just eaten chips two days earlier...." I think it was the first time I've ever growled in my life. He looked a little scared but continued in a supportive way by driving past the chippy.

 I don't know who was most surprised by the torrent of tears that flooded down my face. As Pete reversed up the road, he said ok but you can pop in and buy them as there is no where to park properly...which made me cry even more.

 Pete returned with the chips, he said nothing and drove us home. Another hormonal incident was at the local pub..I fancied a jacket potato with cheese and salad. The cheese grated, but unmelted and of course salad cream. As the owner tried to explain they didn't do jacket potatoes my bottom lip started to tremble and my eyes filled with water. Pete looked on in despair waiting for the inexplicable, totally over the top crying fit...fortunately the owner was married with children and recognised the 'I must have this exactly'and 'now'look.

 I shall be eternally grateful for his graciousness and delicious lunch as ordered. Pete was fast realising hormones were a force to be reckoned with. Thankfully the last four months were a dream. I loved every minute of the pregnancy once the sickness subsided.

 The anticipation was exciting and was only marred by my friend, cuddling her firstborn son..describing his birth..."It was just like 'cr***** a concrete football". Lovely.

 Lying in the bath watching the 'alien' trundling round making my tummy into all sorts of weird and wonderful shapes Was mesmerising. If I had known this undisturbed bath time would be a long forgotten luxury, I may have enjoyed it even more.

 Pete would spend hours with his hand on my tummy as I excitedly announced it was  kicking ...just there..put your hand there, grabbing his arm and forcing him to feel the 'kick'.

 I was ignorant of the fact that babies/ children will never perform on demand...starting in the womb.

 Peters forever 'resigned' face tried to look interested after twenty minutes of me moving his hand.."there, no here, just to the left...press..hold did you feel that?"

 I used to 'spoon' him in bed, so he could feel the baby move and start the bonding. He would sleep through it undisturbed..snoring serenely...whilst I made frequent visits to the toilet. God's way to prepare us for those sleepless nights.

He wasn't impressed that the baby kicked his cup of tea in the air whilst I used it for demonstration purposes.

 I loved wearing maternity Dungarees and a couple of tents often donated by kind friends ..I shall be eternally grateful I was too early for the now trendy 'showing the bump off' look...

 In those days Mothercare had the monopoly on the maternity clothes...no other high street retailer thought to help us out. I was grateful in later pregnancies for the introduction of the maternity jeans...which I lived in for the duration and beyond of all future pregnancies.

 We were fortunate that a dear friend donated almost all of the baby stuff we needed, and the week before 'D' day my nesting instinct kicked in. I had left work on the Friday as I had remained so well, with a week to prepare for the much awaited arrival.

I was both content and petrified. I had read every issue of 'Practical Parenting' since the positive test result. This informative magazine was full of happy stories, advice on pregnancy, birth and the early years. I was prepared.

 The eating 'ch' food was diminishing,but glugging Gaviscon from the bottle increased....often whilst driving, swigging it by the gallon...my bump stopping the steering wheel turning easily as my short legs meant I was squished too close.

 I recall being quite judgemental of other parents whilst pregnant. Watching an unruly youngster throwing his food then himself across the table in a restaurant, I fondly hugged my now huge tummy thinking awww ours will not do that, we will just talk sweetly to it....

I very quickly learnt that judging was not an option...as invariably our children over the years have managed at some time to not only throw themselves over a table but actually fly the full length of the restaurant...whilst screaming 'poo face' at the top of their voices.

 Also I hatched a plan to start talking to the new baby on arrival, smiling broadly so he or she would respond and be the most smiley baby ever to have lived. There was a slight flaw in my plan - I discovered later...1) Babies didn't care about your ideals and 2) they were born with their own personality...it transpired our firstborn preferred the grumpy look.

Not even my best disco moves could prompt a smile.

 After finishing work I had a week to get 'the bag' complete. On my first day off I washed all the cutsie babygros and vests ready to put in the chest of drawers. The sun shone brightly for the end of March and I enjoyed the thrill of pegging out tiny clothes on the washing line..the warmth of the sun making me dream of walking the new baby down quiet country roads..not long now.

 The suggested music cassettes were carefully chosen and packed, a good book...and a comfortable nightie.. I freaked a little if I thought about the size of a concrete football, but I had my Detailed birth plan ready..what could go wrong...