I know a lot of people posted about this a while ago, but it sometimes takes me an age to catch up. Now I think the original idea was to come up with ten, but I've plumped for five instead or this post would have gone on forever. I've been pondering my most surreal mummy moments when I've had a quiet minute (usually in the bath after 7pm, or driving somewhere in the car) for the last few weeks and here's the list I've come up with:
1. The positive pregnancy test
We'd been trying for about six months to get pregnant, and each month the disappointing day arrived that crushed our baby hopes. It was January 2009 and we were expecting some friends for dinner. I was busy in the kitchen preparing the starter of grilled soft goat's cheese and contemplating getting started on my first large glass of wine of the evening when I thought it might be wise to check both these things were wise. My period was late, but this wasn't unusual, and I'd been putting off doing a test because I didn't want to look at another negative result. Half and hour before our friends were due I popped upstairs to pee on a stick and immediately got the positive result! Young Daddy and I did a manic dance for a couple of minutes before the doorbell went, we composed ourselves, and sat poker-faced through the evening. I love my friend dearly, but I have to admit we were desperate for her and her now fiance to leave so we could digest the news together!
2. Five weeks pregnant - some unexpected news
At five weeks pregnant, I had some bleeding. Understandably I panicked, especially as it was a Saturday, and the only Saturday ever that Young Daddy has worked. So I phoned my mum, who didn't know I was pregnant, blurted out our happy news, and asked her to come with me to the Early Pregnancy Unit at St Thomas'. I had a hormone test and sat at home that evening waiting for the hospital to call me with the results. Ok, first hurdle passed - my pregnancy hormone level was high enough to warrant a scan. Young Daddy and I were back at St Thomas' on the Monday, as I had my first scan. The sonographer was quiet for so long I prepared myself for bad news. 'So I'm not pregnant, then?' I asked. 'Oh, you're definitely pregnant,' she replied. 'I can see two babies, but I'm just checking there aren't any more in there!'
3. D-day = 37+1 weeks
Going to bed one night, knowing that you'll have two babies by the time you next bed down is pretty hard to get your head around. I wound up being booked for a c-section at 37 weeks because both twins were breech, and Mr A's growth had slowed down. We had to be at the hospital at 7am in the morning, though we didn't go into theatre until about 2.30pm in the end. Surprisingly I did manage to sleep that night, probably because it all felt so unreal and in a way I was relieved to be able to know finally when and how it was all going to happen.
4. The first sleepless night
When Young Daddy left me in the ward when visiting hours were up (8pm) that first night after having the babies, I felt completely at sea. I was still exhilerated but lying unable to move in a bed with two cots attached, containing real, live, babies, was weird to say the least. And no-one warned me how much noise babies make! Both of mine got hiccups, I could hear them poo, and Mr A snored. If Miss E, whose bassinet was the furthest away, needed a feed, I could just about reach her feet and then had to pull her across the bed to me. Oh, happy days.
5. Feeding two babies
I'm not limiting this to one particular moment because there are too many that deserve a mention. Sitting in hospital using a double breast pump while midwives, catering staff, cleaners etc walked in and out of my room - that's one. Tandem breastfeeding in front of friends and family (there's no subtle way to do it!) - that's two. Getting the train into the City and trying to feed Miss E discreetly, surrounded by men in suits, and her glugging and smacking her lips as loud as she possibly could - there's another.