Well what a week of dramatics! *Sighs*
Firstly, i haven’t managed to really be able to write a blog, over the last few days, due to me being summoned to bed rest. I can’t actually remember what day it was now? Wait, no…it was Thursday. I woke up that morning, after tending to Baby Ruby for most of the night, who was finding it hard to get comfy in dreamland, kissed my husband goodbye at around 6.30am, felt something odd in my pyjama bottoms, ran to the toilet to check the situation out, only to find that during the early hours of Thursday morning, before i woke, i had bled out. (Never good when pregnant.)
I had a panic. I called my mum. (She’s a doctor and always my first call anyway.) Text Keiran, whilst flustering through a mind of ultimate ‘oh my goodness,’ and finally the moment hit me…and i resorted to the big old kitty cat weep. I cried hysterically, yet didn’t let it get in the way of being a Mummy to my gorgeous Baby Ruby, as i slowly sauntered into her room, with a fake face of ‘happy’ on, all a cuddles and a light, but with hysterical tears storming down my cheeks and got my little girl ready for nursery. We sang, did nappy changes and picked outfits. All the time with me still crying, yet doing the ‘happy-mummy’ act. The sad thing was, that as we were walking down the stairs and counting them as we walked, my tiny one year old who has her left hand in my right, looked up at me, saw tears strolling down my cheeks mid-count and whispered ‘I’m sorry mummy.’ (Like she has thought she has done something wrong to make me cry. 🙁 ) That almost broke up, but i immediately manned up (i believe is the term…even though i prefer the phrase ‘to Diva,’) cuddled her on the stairs, wiped away the tears and pulled myself together merrily and stayed that way until my mother came over to run her to nursery.
As soon as she waved ‘bye-bye’ in her little teddy bear hat, the patio door slowly closed and i cried my sorry little eyes out. I mean for any woman, that moment when you fear that you could, or even have lost your baby, is the most emotionally numbing feeling in the entire world, especially because for me, it was the day BEFORE my first scan!!
After making all the correct phone calls, i bed rested horizontally ALL day, worrying. It was awful. I didn’t even know what to do with myself and even though i felt terrified managed to get to a more positive phase, after talking to Hubby Keiran, my mum and reading the stories of other women who had gone through the same thing online. Hence why i think it’s important for people to write everything out in life for people to read, as you never know who it may inspire and i do mean for the better. If it was going to happen, it was going to happen and to be honest, there was nothing i could do.
I was very well looked after all evening. I’m luckily that i have so much help and that i’m surrounded by loving people. I will admit i cried throughout little bits of the day and then waited until the next morning. 10.30am. It was my scan. I feared going to bed that night, incase i woke up in a pool of bed sheet blood.
Keiran, stayed positive through the entire thing and before my journey over to Pontefract hospital, Kelly and Phil sent me warm wishes, as did my mummy. I tottered in, with a brave face, waited for my name to be called, in a waiting room filled with women in all stages of pregnancy, some with partners, some with not…walked in after a ‘Christina Thompson?’ With the other part to the shindig. Explained to the lady who was to perform the scan what had happened and laid on the couch, after she has simply, ‘well let me take a look and i’ll beable to tell you.’
Scariest moment EVER! (I was laid on the couch, Keiran holding my hand on a chair to the left and the lady about to see if i had a healthy baby,)
After 30 seconds and with a look on the screen, she immediately and in order to comfort me said ‘There you go, baby’s fine and there’s the heartbeat!’ We had NEVER felt so happy in our entire lives. It was just a massive relief and from that point the little dark room filled with a giddy joy of excitement and even inch of that screen was enjoyed. We watched my heartbeat happy bambino wiggle, kick, bounce, flounce and chill with it’s arms over it’s face and our world couldn’t feel more complete. Keiran was overwhelmed and i was just..well just so relieved, i felt like a women again and not like..well a failure.
The rest of the day was amazing and i have nothing more to report for that Friday! Absolute best day ever!
Shopped yesterday. Enjoyed it throughly, with my mum, dad, brother and Baby Ruby. Keiran had gone to Kelly and Phils for Sunday dinner. (We had a bicker the evening before and well i neither of us were feeling on top of the world, to say we had had such a wonderful day before.) Kelly and Phil, has actually come over, the evening before (bless them) with gifts for me, to put a smile back on my face after the baby scare. I adore gifts and well it was lovely to be given, luxury bubble bath spa treats, Shloer, chocolate and buns! I adore Kelly for that and well it doesn’t matter how someone makes sure you know they care, as long as they make sure you know they care. 🙂 I actually felt bad when they came around, as our entire living room, was in our kitchen, due to Keiran wanting to clean the carpet. But ah well…shit happens.
So…and the bit your all waiting for…i’m aimlessly walking through the Frenchgate center in Doncaster. (The town that birthed me.) And at 11.24am, i receive a text from Wazza explaining that the hits to the website, this very website, had bizarrely decided to go through the roof and he didn’t know why..and when he says ‘through the roof,’ he means almost beating the record for biggest all time hits?
I had no idea why or what had gone on…but i did know that a bunch of journalist, (remember when i blogged that) had repeatedly hounded and called my phone all day, a couple days ago, wanting me to call them back. I was resting and called not a single one of them back, as i simply at the time couldn’t be bothered. At first and on that day, i had no idea what they could be calling about, but i knew i hadn’t done anything quite alarming, nor wonderful, for anyone to be writing about, so i wasn’t too interested. Later that day Keiran called to tell me he has heard on the radio about my old school friend Kweku being sentenced after his trail and well i automatically assumed it was probably because of that and the press were trying to find dirt on him. (And there is no dirt, as he’s not that kind of gentleman.) They’ve been hounded lots of the people he went to school with…so i thought nothing more of it and well…had more things to worry about.
Sunday morning, walking through Doncaster like i said. Get the text from Wazza and after a bit of research by my school pal and cyberland manager, who runs my website with me, within minutes he finds out that i’m in the press about Kweku, tangled in some random twisted story. I look at my mum, *sigh* and after a bit of lunch, we go grab The Sun to see what had been going on. I’m stood outside Next, thumbing through the paper, it’s falling to pieces on me outside ‘Garage’ and then to my entire shock and ultimate HORROR, i see this:
So firstly, i just want to say to you, that i have never EVER spoken to The Sun, or Anthony France (i think that’s the journalist’s name, who wrote the story) about Kweku and secondly it is completely and utterly FABRICATED. Kweku and I simply went to school together. That’s it! However, because that’s not jazzy enough a story and the press refuse to accept that he is actually a decent guy and need to depict him and also Me now, in a horrific light, i guess they decided to ‘jazz it up’ themselves, by making up tales to make a newspaper a wee bit more interesting. I mean 4 days ago, i received an email from the journalist above asking me to call him personally or the office for a chat. I never did and well because i never did…look what happened. They made up their own story based upon a story almost a year ago, that they twisted.
The thing that horrifies me about this is the fact that I believe the Adoboli’s are going through enough right now, without having to read stories made up by the press that paint a sordid image of him. Secondly, they placed streams and streams of words, in actual quotation marks, which would state that i had said them to the press, which is NOT AT ALL TRUE. How embarassing!!! I mean, i would never do something like that! It doesn’t settle well with me, as i just think what his family will think and what he’ll think, what my school friends will think. So it’s not fair. My family ofcourse know it was all made up..and now after a cry, wallowing in mild embarrassment after being made out to look like a cheapo ‘kiss and tell girl’ which i would never ever be (neither of us are random chavtastics, who would do something of that sort. We both come from great families.) Then after a pep talk, a fuming husband and a few phone conversations…i’m all good again. It’s out there now and well it’s not true and it’s all done.
So yeah…back to happy. But there you go, i’ve said my piece and my well wishes are sent to his loved ones and family.
Lots of love,