20 hours later.

I love my job. I love it. I love the fact that I have in the past not left the office until 9pm. I love that I did a full day of work on Thursday, and then drove 3 hours to Derby. And then drove back from Derby after working on Friday.

And I love when you are put "on call" for something, that no one really expects to happen. And then it does.

I'm working on a show about pregnancy, and I have worked on it on and off since January.
And I have never really filmed anything before except test interviews. And once I did a pan down from the top of a shop to the door of it. Exciting stuff!

So being put "on call" for a birth in Milton Keynes, which is only an hour & 45 minutes drive away, didn't bother me. I had my overnight bag packed "just in case". I put my phone on loud by my bed on Friday night at 11pm as I settled down to sleep, having arrived home from Derby about an hour beforehand.

So when, at 3am, I heard the word "Labrinth, come in" I bolted upright and looked at my phone, luminous in the dark. I knew. I didn't know the number, but I just knew.

"Hello Emma speaking?"
"Hi Emma, it's [colleague] from work. I've just got the call - [contributor's] water's have broken."
"OK. OK. I'm on my way. I'll see you at the hospital?"

I jumped out of bed. I pulled on some clothes. I tied my already greasy hair into a bun and clipped back the remaining strands and fringe. I threw my phone charger in my bag and programmed the satnav.

I ran upstairs to my mum, to wake her up, and say goodbye. My mum went on holiday yesterday, so it was the last time I'd see her for a week. And I didn't even really see her.

I went back downstairs and said goodbye to my dad. And then I grabbed everything, including a bottle of coke, an old cous cous salad, an apple, and an open bag of pistachio nuts, and I was out the door.

I didn't even eat. I stopped at some services to wolf down the cous cous. I made good time - the M1 was empty, funnily enough. I had just got to the roundabout where the hospital was located, and I got a text message to say they were back at the flat. So I changed the satnav's instructions, and headed there.

We did some filming with the dad, as mum was resting on a ward at the hospital. We tried to sleep for an hour. Then we got up, did some more filming, and headed to the hospital. Then we waited, for the lead midwife and the communications lady to arrive.
And then we filmed.

I'm not going to tell you everything because that would be giving the show away.
But we didn't leave until about 10.30pm. We headed to the hotel that had been booked for us during the day, to find that it was located directly above a pub/club and there was no free parking.

I went to bed around midnight. I basically did a 20 hour day. I went to sleep very quickly.
And goddamn my arms hurt today from carrying that camera!

But what I really want to tell you is how I felt when I first saw that baby.

Nothing. I felt nothing.

I had wondered throughout the day how I would feel. Would I suddenly feel that supposedly "primal" instinct in my womb. Would it suddenly start screaming out "Fill me!! I NEED TO BE FILLED WITH HUMAN LIFE!!"
But it didn't.
It wasn't an ugly baby at all, but I didn't want to go "Awww!"
I just felt nothing.
Except maybe relief because the day was nearly over.

I watched this woman doing a very brave thing. Doing what women are "put here to do".
And I am telling you now, I have not been put here to do that. Nuh uh. No way.
If I suddenly one day feel like my life is missing something, and that something is not a cat, but a child, then I am adopting. Definitely.

People are always condescendingly telling me I'll change my mind.
But I saw a newborn baby. And I did not think, "I want one of those one day."
I'm fairly sure my mind's made up.