31 August 2007
Well, it’s been a month since I wrote and that’s because up until this week everything had been going perfectly.
But this week you’ve given me the fright of my life. On Tuesday (28th) I had a half day as mum was coming up and was going to come to the antenatal doctors with me and then do the hospital tour at St Thomas’.
Well, I’d had bad backache since the Monday but assumed it was just another delightful side effect of being a whale, but no.
Went to the docs with mum and everything seemed fine as usual, although when I lay down on the bed I felt a bit uncomfortable and when she palpated my stomach to see how you were lying (head down at last!) it felt really tender and a bit sore just at your head end.
Anyway, I thought nothing more of it and later in the afternoon mum and I had a stroll down the Southbank and then went onto the hospital tour.
Here’s where the fun really starts. There were lots of couples (way to make me feel awful) and we’d just started the tour and were in the first delivery room when I felt a bit damp.
I tried clamping the old pelvic floor muscles together thinking, ‘I haven’t wet myself, have I?’ but then I felt something running down my leg. I then thought how funny it would be if my waters broke while I was already in the hospital.
Then I surrepticiously pressed a hand agasint my groin and when I looked at it, it was dripping with blood. The colour must have just drained from my face and I said to mum, ‘I’m bleeding’ and because I was holidng my hand out she’d thought I’d cut my hand (WHAT? How would I have done that?).
But then I did that ‘No, I’m bleeding, DOWN THERE’ thing that everyone does to avoid the word vagina which is pretty stupid on a baby ward, given that vaginas are basically their business.
By this stage we were out of the room and I was sobbing and mum grabbed a nurse who led me through the other people (ha ha, must have scared the crap out of them) and into a private room.
Here I put on a gown and was hooked up to a machine to monitor your heart and the contractions. Thankfully you were a very happy baby which was fantastic to hear because I thought I was going to lose you.
They did an internal exam and examined my knickers (yep, pregnancy sure ain’t for the fainthearted or easily embarrassed) but couldn’t see a reason for the bleed and I’d stopped now.
I had to stay in overnight and lovely Gem brought me some clothes and my notes, staying over night was pretty miserable but it was the safest thing for you and I had my own room which I couldn’t complain about.
But the night was awful as I was too scared to sleep in case I started bleeding again or you stopped moving but we got through it. It’s funny being in there I kind of felt like, okay, let’s just get on with it, let’s just get you out now, baby. And the other half of my brain was going, Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
I’m so not ready, I’m not prepared. We haven’t got half the stuff we need ready yet. I haven’t left work, what about my leaving do? I haven’t packed up my room in the flat. Well, if this scare did anything, it’s made me think about getting my butt into gear and getting everything organised.
The next day they took me down to ultrasound for another scan, hurrah, I got to see you again, even though you can’t see very much as you’re so big now.
The sonographer said you looked perfectly healthy and could see no reason for the bleed, the placenta was still good and intact and not other issues. Plus, he said you were very leggy and a good weight! Approxiamtely 5lbs 10 ounces.
Nothing happened for the rest of the day, you were fine, the hospital food was gross and I met some real characters in the antenatal ward – the woman opposite me was on her 11th child. I couldn’t bear to stay another night so I discharged myself.
So, that’s the story of you scaring me but that wasn’t the only shock I had. Dan decided to finally get in touch after two and a half months of absolute silence, that man can really pick his moments.
I got a text Wednesday afternoon saying we should talk then and to arrange a date, I couldn’t believe my eyes, after all this time, his nerve is unbelievable. It makes me so angry to think about him – to have to deal with him and all this shit.
I was so upset and couldn’t not think about it, so I had to call him and it was awful. Firstly, he said that we should talk and imitating his previous phone calls I simply said, ‘What about?’.
And then he got angry and started on about ‘our baby’. I corrected him in that I think of you as ‘my baby’ as I’m the one who chose to keep you and love you when he buggered off. I said that he knew where I stood from the last time we spoke, that I really didn’t want anything to do with him as he’s been so rude, disrespectful, selfish and arrogant towards us.
Oh, and I’d told him that we were in hospital and he hardly even asked why, more concerned was he about how much maintenance he might have to fork out and his own selfish, shallow little life.
I told him briefly what had happened and I’m not sure it even registered, he didn’t sound concerned, he didn’t ask any questions about you and I was just blown away by his lack of emotion.
Worse was yet to come. Even knowing we were in hospital he went on to say, ‘Well, you’re not going to like this but there’s something you have to do for me.’ Oh really? He demanded a paternity test.
Just writing that makes me shake with anger, I’ve never felt rage like it. I was amazed at just how low this man could sink. I said to him that he knew this baby was his and he admitted it.
He said that yes, he was sure it was his but that his friends told him he should get one. Wow. Just how immature can one man be? At first I was angry but then I said fine, if you want to prove me right, go ahead, why would I be worried, this just makes you look like an even bigger shit than you do already.
Then I laughed at him and said, yes, look how that turned out for Eddie Murphy, just wonderfully [This was during the Mel B/Eddie Murphy post-fling paternity war], and he was lost for words really.
He knew how pathetic he was being because he kind of lost his way once I started laughing. Then he got mean. Which is how I know he’s still putting himself first and doesn’t really give two hoots about me or you –I’m sorry, I’ll love you three times as much to make up for it.
At one point he tried to say that I told him I was on the pill. And there started all his self-deluding utter shit. I was horrified. We both went to bed knowing what we were doing and now he was trying to say that I lied about contraception. I would NEVER do that.
He wouldn’t wear a condom, I wasn’t on the pill and we both knew all of this. He won’t take any responsibility for this situation.
At one point he said, ‘You’ve imposed this on me and now I have to deal with it’.
And I was like, ‘Well, I’m sorry I didn’t want to abort my child, if he’s such an imposition then why don’t you just walk away, you’ve done a pretty good job so far.’
He was so obnoxious and rude but I held it together and that’s how I knew I had no feelings left for this man. Then he started going on about what’s best for the child. I was nearly sick. What a patronising man he is.
I said to him, 'dont you dare tell me what’s best for my child, I know, I’ve been doing it for eight months and keeping him was the best thing I ever did.'
He said he didn’t want to go through the CSA and I said we just should just keep things as clean as possible. He went on to say that he didn’t want to be just a cheque in the post but that he didn’t want to see ‘it’ every week.
It? It? If I could have killed him with my mind I would have. I asked him what access he did want and he said that access was a gruesome word but I said, that’s what it is.
He said, ‘well, I don’t want to come to your house, I don’t want to see your family, I don’t want to see you.’ The feeling’s completely mutual.
I said that I wasn’t surprised he didn’t want to see my family, too ashamed probably. But if he thinks he’s seeing my tiny little baby without me he must be living on another planet.
I asked him exactly what he did want and the truth of it was that he just didn’t know. He said that he didn’t want to see the baby every week but I said that once a month was pointless, the baby wouldn’t even know who he was.
He kept going on about his ‘rights’. He didn't want to see his baby, but see that he got all his ‘rights’. So bloody selfish. Then he demanded that I tell him when you’re born because once again, he had a right to know.
What’s wrong with his bloody fingers? If he wants to know he can call me. When I got off the phone to him I was crying and shaking and so scared that he might try and take you away from me just out of spite.
Mum came over and rang him back. This was an unheard of action for my mother, she’s not one to overstep a mark but I think seeing how absolutely distraught I was brought out the mummy bear, it was kind of nice to have someone stick up for me, I was tired of doing it alone.
She was great on the phone. She asked him what all this nonsense was about a paternity test and he said again that he was sure it was his but his friends told him to get one. And she was all ‘but you’re 31’ and he said yes and that I was 26 (he doesn’t even know how old I am – arggghhhhhh!) and she said, ‘Yes, and unlike you she’s doing a bloody good job of being responsible and looking after herself’.
Then he tried to give her a big sob story about how his life is in turmoil, blah, blah and mum was like, ‘wrap it up, it’s hardly been a ball for Vron.’ Then he gave mum the ‘rights’ speech but again he didn’t once say he just wanted to see his baby.
I don’t get it. Well, I do, it’s about what he thinks he’s entitled to and deserves not actual love for anyone else. He tried to coerce mum into saying she would get me to inform him when you were born and ha, she wouldn’t. She just said that it was my decision and that was the end of that.
Mum was laughing when she got off the phone, I was so pleased she spoke to him as now she’s really got the measure of him and thinks he’s absolutely pathetic and selfish and totally committed to just himself.
I feel so much better because she’s totally in my corner now she realises that he won’t be any good for you and me. We’ve decided that the best thing to do is have no more contact. I’m not going to tell him when you’re born, he has my number, he can ring me and I will of course answer him.
I don’t want anything from him. I don’t think he’ll want contact if he’s not paying, if he was he’d want something for his money. This way I think he’ll just wander off into the distance, and trust me, we’ll be better for it.