Day from hell.

Again - will I look back and laugh about this one day?

Yesterday. 1.45pm. Set off from home leaving Elizabeth just getting off to sleep with my Dad preparing his male voice choir file on the dining table. 2.15pm - arrive Royal Shrewsbury hospital. Negotiate car park entrance, get parking place 'gazumped' by old man. Remain calm. Park, pay and display, then set off towards maternity department for 2.30pm appointment with dermatologist. Walking across a muddy grass verge I slip and land heavily on my backside, and end up lying down on the mud having banged my head in the process. Survey damage. Behind is soaked through to knickers. Coat covered in mud on back and sleeves, hands filthy, legs filthy. Shakily make way to toilets and ineffectually dab paper towels at mud. Succeed only in making sink filthy and getting self upset. Crying hysterically and uncontrollably make way to day assessment unit. Say am here for 2.30 appointment, they tell me to wait in waiting area. Walk back via toilets for more dabbing, then sit head in hands sobbing uncontrollably until kindly Welsh lady calls me for my appointment. Arrive in day assessment unit in full flow, and try to explain between sobs to the waiting audience what is wrong. Dermatologist asks me to undress. Peel off muddy clothes and show her my skin which she thinks is healing. Tell her I have had no sleep, am exhausted, am not coping. She suggests admission so I can 'have a rest'. I decline.

Am strapped to monitor to check baby's heartbeat for 20 minutes. Have blood pressure checked, and further blood sample taken to rule out choleostasis once again. Baby fine. Am transferred to armchair to wait for prescription for sleeping tablets.

Half an hour later prescription hasn't arrived. They chase it - it is lost. Prescription gets re-written by registrar. I ring husband at 4pm to demand he goes straight home rather than out birthday card shopping. Go to pharmacy. Hand in prescription. Ring husband again to explain and cry like a shaking pathetic 36 weeks' pregnant woman! At 5.30pm having waited a further hour go to window and ask if they have forgotten me. Pharmacist sees me - he says he can't give me the medication because it is not suitable for people at this stage in pregnancy. 5.40pm make my way damply and shakily out of hospital, sit on incontinence pad in car and drive self home. Arrive home to find Elizabeth crying, refusing tea and saying that the kitchen floor has been turning around. Struggle to get her through bathtime, then send husband out for fish and chips. Look up medication on the internet and realise that there are serious risks for the baby associated with Zopiclone - respiratory problems at birth for example. Oh my God. Scratch from then onwards, and get into bed sporadically from 9.30pm onwards. Drift in and out of sleep.