Monday, 21 February 2011

The phoney war, and poo on the patio.

I know I haven’t written for a while, but that’s because not a lot has happened, and I know that’s not the most gripping start to a blog post, but bear with me...

The last couple of weeks have been taken up with us trying to come to terms with our pregnancy, whilst not really seeing any signs of it.  Em has been getting odd sensations in her belly (well, womb I guess) but nothing terribly dramatic has been happening at all.

I’ve realised that the way I look after Em has stepped up a gear; I’ve always looked out for her but since I’ve found out she’s pregnant my level of concern has gone into overdrive. Last week we were staying in a holiday cottage in Dorset, and on the third night we were there (Valentines night no less) the bathroom flooded.  It didn’t seem like a big deal at first and Em waded in with towels to soak up the water, but then I noticed that the small patio out the back of the cottage was littered with foul water and toilet roll.  So my mild annoyance quickly turned into well managed panic as I ran through the cottage yelling ‘GET OUT, GET OUT’ at my confused wife. 

The extremely lovely agents who manage the cottage we were in put us up in their own house for the night, and then moved us to a new cottage.  It turns out the entire row of cottages shares a single waste pipe, and later that night I drove past the cottage and the entire row (and a nearby pub) was busy with water-board trucks and plumbers vans, so it looks like we got out in the nick of time!

We both managed the situation with a clear-headed logical (and reasonable) urgency, with no anxious panic or muddled thinking, hopefully this state of mind will continue throughout our pregnancy, but I somehow doubt it, we’re only human after all.

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