Things had been looking up at the start of this month, health-wise. I’d got back onto a spin bike and amazingly managed not to break it, despite being the size of a baby hippo. I wondered why my spin teacher was bigger than me; turned out she was pregnant too! Seven months gone, and a total inspiration.
Brilliantly, bubski also started kicking this month, usually after eating or drinking (kicks of appreciation) or after said spin classes (kicks of revenge).
But then there was a most unfortunate and traumatic incident. I was rushed to hospital from work and spent 11 hours there in agony due to what can be politely described as a vital part of my system totally breaking down.
I won’t go into detail. You might be reading this while trying to eat your lunch, or indeed be planning to eat lunch at some point in your life. If I give you the details, you’ll never eat again. Suffice to say that S has now seen me at my worst, which is, to look on the positive, handy practice for watching me give birth this summer.
A particularly low point in hospital was the first doctor we saw, who hadn’t read my notes properly but did hear me screaming in pain. He shouted: “SHE’S HAVING A MICARRIAGE!” Cue massive row with S, who pointed out that it was definitely not a miscarriage, unless babies were now born out of one’s bum.
A few hours later, as I lay there with assorted effluvium seeping from my suffering orifice, I stared S in the eyes and asked him: “Is this what you dreamt of when you joined JDate?”
So, you see, JDate does work. You might end up falling in love, marrying your date and then watching him or her leak like a sewer two years later.
The next couple of weeks were pretty challenging; I was really sick. But, again to look on the positive, some people who really looked out for me. Each call or message I received was a boost that I’ll never forget. Thanks, guys.