Published on August 20th, 2012 | 546 Views

Testing packed hospital bags

We both woke up feeling we had been on a long haul flight. We had been sleeping on and off throughout the night, our carry-ons were safely stored next to us, and we were woken by a uniform-dressed woman who turned the lights on and handed out breakfast menus.

The only difference was that we were not in flight seats. I was in a hospital bed and Daddy T was on a mattress next to me.

When the contractions were 10 minutes apart, our obstetrician had advised us to come to the hospital to see him since I have a planned c-section.

Twelve hours later we were still there. We had brought our hospital bags, but soon realised that we hadn’t packed exactly what we needed.

I wasn’t expecting to spend a night in hospital before the big day. I was tired and I soon wished I had brought the latest issue of Vouge instead of a library of text-heavy baby books.

Daddy T was also unhappy with his bag. While I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink in case they had to do the section at short notice, he needed an energy boost after having had to skip his dinner. It suddenly seemed crazy not to have packed the snacks and drinks that all the hospital bag checklists include.

Like any long-haul trips, there was a lot of time just waiting and sitting there. It is best for Baby Girl if we avoid doing a section earlier than necessary, so I was strapped to a monitor to track the contractions before being sent out for a one-hour walk around Chelsea. The process was repeated a couple of times before the obstetrician was satisfied that the contractions were not getting stronger and more frequent.

The last thing we were told to do before we could be released was to have lunch in Fulham Road. It was 30 degrees outside, a beautiful summer day, and I had only had a sip of water and a cereal bar in the last 24 hours.

Lunch in Sophie’s Steakhouse? I think I can survive that. My obstetrician is the best.

Tags: Contractions, Hospital bag, Labour, Pregnancy