Hospital is not exactly a place you wish to find yourself (for obvious reasons). A place that is full of experiences of illness and pain does not really make it on my top-ten-places-to-visit-before-I'm-40 list. Going to hospital to give birth, however, is a whole new ball game – both a blessing and a curse; the inevitable suffering followed by, hopefully, unspeakable joy.
So, when I found myself in hospital five months early, at 17 weeks pregnant, I was forced to prepare myself in advance for a few nights stay on a ward, facing my fears of those white corridors and sterilised aromas – this time without a baby delivered at the end of it. It's an interesting experience being in hospital with no reward other than the blessing of a pain free existence, or a great appreciation for non-hospital food. It actually made me appreciate that, despite a rather traumatic birth experience with my first, being in hospital to have a baby is a blessing – you go home with a prize for your sufferings (all be it one that may rob you of dignity and sleep for a while!).
You see, I have been dreading my inevitable hospital stay - "The Birth". I found myself thinking of ways to cheat the system and leave the ward early (hell, I even considered a home birth). I didn't want to be prodded and poked and have tubes stuck in funny places. I did not want to be in pain. I did not want to have to sleep on a ward with the world's loudest snorer, or someone who listens to Techno music on their headphones at full volume.
And then I had to face reality: I collapsed in pain on my living room floor one day and all that prodding and poking and tubes in your veins turned out to be a pretty god-damn good thing or I wouldn't still be here. There's nothing better to prepare you for childbirth than a ruptured appendix. Thankfully I was found and an ambulance was called and my condition was dealt with quickly by amazing health professionals (who I cannot thank enough).
Of course, that doesn't take away the fact that hospitals are never going to be rated next to a 5* hotel and consequently you have to find ways to deal with the downsides of having your life saved, or bringing one into the world. Here are my top five reasons to appreciate hospitals and to milk your birthing experience for all its worth:
No. 1:
Drugs. On tap. You're like a kid in a sweet shop. Of course there is obviously a reason why you are on drugs, but once you've been in severe pain and there are ways to take it away for you (other than the dismal 50p paracetamol you've been talking for months) you will have more of an appreciation for pain relief than you have ever had in your life. I fell in love with both my anaesthetists, and one was a woman.
No. 2:
A call bell. Need a cup of tea? No problem, just press that little buzzer and all your wishes will be granted... well, sort of. You can have the nurses fluffing your pillows and mopping your brow. Milk it, ladies.
Diet. Worried about losing the baby weight? Worry no further. The NHS have a specially prepared diet for you to ensure that the weight stays off. You won't believe how little food you eat.
No. 4:
That said, the tea and toast in hospital is the best you will ever have in your life. Order ten slices. And tea in a drip.
No. 5:
Characters. You will meet some utterly atrocious people, alongside the absolute gems. You suddenly have a warmth for human existence - the lady that farts in her sleep, or the nurse who's obsessed with the latest bargains at Aldi would at one point do your head in, but instead they give you a giggle on an otherwise dull day. You learn to laugh in the face of vulnerability and empathise with those who you would never otherwise have chance to meet. A mix of classes and races all brought down to the same category of flesh and blood; of sweat and tears.
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