New addition to the vestibule dynasty

Conversation with my sister at 1am this morning:

S: Big bad sister of mine, I need your help. Would you be able to tell me if I’ve gone into labour?

Me: What? What? What’s happening? Tell me.

S: Well, every few minutes I feel like I can’t breathe, I go all hot and my stomach sort of goes into spasms.

Me: Those are contractions, you idiot. Either that or a multiple orgasm.

S: It’s definitely not that. I’m never having sex again. What shall I do?

Me: Time them and when they’re three minutes apart you need to be in hospital.

S: I don’t want to go to hospital. It’s an hour’s drive away.

Me: That’s why you should go now. It’s only going to get worse.

S (dreamily): Maybe I should be like the !Kung women. They just go off and give birth under a tree.

Me: You do not live in Botswana. You live in the Lake District. Look out of the window.

S: It’s raining.

Me: Exactly. Get in the car now.

S: Do you think I could just finish my emails first?

Me: No.


4am: My brother-in-law calls to tell me she has given birth. Two hours, no drugs, a boy. Hurrah! I shall be boring you, dear readers, with gushing homages and photos forthwith.