So the babies were due on the Friday but at 2:13am on Tuesday, 14th July, I got a call from my sister saying she thought her waters had broken and she was on her way to hospital. Isn’t it funny how, at 8 months pregnant, when watery stuff comes out of your nether regions, you can still have a discussion with your sister as to what it is. I mean, really, what else would it be? But, at 2:13am one can never be sure.
Of course, I was wide awake then, and The Siamese Princess and I educationally spent the next two hours watching a mini-series on American Independence (did you know John Adams was married to a woman who looked very much like Laura Linney?) and SMSing/calling while sister-of-the-large-belly was put on a foetal monitor, and then scheduled for a Caesar at 4am.
I restrained myself from calling everyone on my phone in my excitement and managed to hold out until 3:45am, when I phoned one friend, just one. At 4:15am the boys were born and I had a picture on my phone – the joys of modern technology. I blubbed when I got the picture - fat joyous tears. At 5:30am I sent an SMS to announce the arrival. I was so proud of my restraint. Some of my friends think I wasn’t (quite) restrained enough. 5:30am? And I had been awake since 2:13am. I think I did well.
We packed the car and left by 9am, journeying to The Big Smoke through the beautiful Karoo, to meet my magical new little nephews.
Could my sister and sister-in-law be any more clever?
16 hours ago