The emergency that wasn't

OK, so my cell phone rings just as I’m hosing down the Brood after lunch.

Now this phone almost never rings. I don’t get any calls from nattering friends or gossipy family members. Very few even have the number. This doesn’t necessarily spell disaster, but since my Darling Hubby and my Dad are at work and I don’t owe anyone any money it’s either an emergency or my Mum. Frightening either way.

“Hello?”
“Blue? This is Dr H’s (my OB) office. I have some bad news…”

Don’t ever, ever say this to a pregnant woman. Ever. Just on general principles. Just scream into the receiver or play ominous music or a recording of an air-raid siren. It will have the same effect.

Fortunately I’m one of those people who reacts extremely well in tense situations. This is why I need to work in emergency services. I get super calm on the outside while my mind races.

I instinctively located all the children. Isn’t it weird how your brain triggers this? I mean, they were right there at my feet, staring curiously up at me, their cherubic faces sticky with peanut butter, wondering why Mommy looked like Bambi in front of a Peterbilt.

I cleared my throte; “Oh yeah?” I asked mildly, “What’s going on?”

“Well, Dr H will be out of town on the 6th of June”

That’s when my c/section is scheduled. That’s it?! That’s what you scared the cervical mucous out of me for? Breathe …

“Ahhh …”
“He can do you the 8th”

(Do me? That sounds rude. He IS a looker, though … waitaminute …I’m due the 10th. Overweight, 4th c-section, big babies: we don’t like letting me get too close to my due date as I’m an excellent candidate for uterine rupture. The 6th was already cutting it close - no pun intended. Ohhh.)

So now it’s all up in the air. When it will be. Who will do it. Gah!

Now I know all of you ladies who just go into labour are snickering behind your hands at me right now. You have every right to. But you can understand how one can get used to having everything plotted out. Especially an obsessive planner like myself. I hate surprises. They make me itch.

I did learn that the other doctor on that day would be Dr. Cutie-Pie, who delivered my first son via emergency c/section (and did a beautiful job of his circumcision, I must say). I certainly trust him (and … uh … like looking at his fine, young self) so that’s good.

Well, we'll see. I'll keep you updated as the non-drama unfolds.

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I want to thank everyone who visited yesterday and who commented. Not only is it a thrill to have so many commentors (yeah, half a dozen is exciting for me *blush*) but it’s just plain cool to get to hear the viewpoints of some thoughtful people. Y’all rock. Thank you for dropping by.