wump, wump, wump, wump
It's just after midnight, April 16th. I'm in room 19 of a large government
building in Britain, staring at a machine churning out a long sheet of graph paper.
wump, wump, wump, wump
Like a seismologist waiting eagerly for the next shift in the tectonic plates, I count the
squares between the peaks. 10 minutes, 8 minutes, 7 minutes.
wump, wump, wump, wump
I decide to get myself a drink of water. On the way to the fountain, I hear a scream and a
whimper emanate from the room next door. Cup in hand, I pass by 20 seconds later to hear a quieter,
but equally determined cry from what seems like a much smaller pair of lungs. Back in room 19,
I turn down the volume on the machine.
wump, wump, wump, wump
Energy never disappears, it just changes its form and finds a new way to make you aware of it. A moment
is a point on a vector that travels in the direction set for it by the energy from the
bodies that combine to influence it. After nine years of moments, I'm made aware of it by the speaker
at the back of the machine.
wump, wump, wump, wukkkkkkchchch
The baby has moved again and we've lost the trace. Enter Marie, the midwife. A quick examination
proves we have no progress and no dilation. A relief since Sarah is only 36 weeks, a delivery now
would be a little premature. That's the main reason we came in when the contractions got closer together.
It's either a really slow start for something to happen over the next few days, or she'll keep getting
the Braxton Hicks contractions for the next four weeks. Watch this space.
For all those of you who believe that there is a balance in your world that provides a new life as
another is taken from us - I'm here to prove you wrong. On the way to the hospital I ran over a frog.
There was no baby. Somebody tip the scales back the other way.