Not exactly something you want to hear from your SIX YEAR OLD DAUGHTER, but on Saturday, these were the words that were screamed at me.
Eva was struggling with an extremely bad stomach and I admit, I didn’t know what to do to help her as she was writhing around on the floor. We’d tried a warm bath, hot water bottle, rubbing her tummy, Calpol but nothing was working. I thought she was being (a touch) over dramatic, but after her announcing that she thought she was having a baby and partaking in some labour-like panting, I decided this was serious. So as you do, I turned to google. Her symptoms via google, were diagnosed as appendicitis. :-0 Cue a frantic and teary call to my mum (always to my mum first), other half and NHS direct which resulted in Olivia and Frankie being rushed off to their Grampa, OH leaving work early, and a trip to the hospital. Turns out this was just a 48 hour bug, combined with colic – which can induce agonising spasms. Phew.
I know what you’re wondering though, how the hell does a six-year-old have any idea what it’s like to be having a baby? I asked myself the same. Then it clicked, two years ago, a four-year-old Eva got up in the early hours of the morning and cuddled me on the sofa while I was in early labour with her brother. Obviously, I tried to be brave so as not to scar my little girl for life, but I gather the manic grin I’d plastered on my face, my oddly contorted body and the odd inescapable groan/screech/panting combo I let out must have conveyed this was pretty darn painful.
Oooops. Hopefully, this hasn’t put her off providing me with grandchildren aplenty in the (very) distant future.
