She Said he Said – March 2017 insights into parenthood She Said Hello, I’m new to this blog writing thing so apologies in advance if what I write doesn’t actually count as a blog, but this is the only way I know how to do it. I suppose I should introduce myself first. My name is Judith. I am a 40 something Brit who has been living in Madrid for nearly 10 years (crikey 10 years already). I moved here with my future husband (yes, I could have escaped!) when his job relocated. My husband is a wannabee geek (I will not let him have the full title despite his protests) and works for the European Space Agency (that’s the European version of NASA). We met while we were both living in Holland and moved to Madrid in May 2007 when his job relocated. My life changed completely: from having worked in the clothing industry to becoming an English teacher. In 2010 I bought the academy I worked for (which if you think that makes me a high powered exec or something, think of the complete opposite) and then in Oct 2016 I became, along with Mayte, an owner of Kids in Madrid. People have been telling me for ages that I should do blogs or vlogs. “Write about what you know”, they say referring to teaching. So, following their advice, I’m going to write about my experiences as a parent, which is funny as I consider myself to be always learning on the job. My other half will chip in with his side so you get a dual perspective. But, ladies, as we all know, us women are always right! So, yes, I am a mother. I am the proud mummy to my beautiful (no bias there at all) 7 year old daughter who was born here in Madrid. This leads me to my first story of parenthood (or impending as the case may be): I WON’T BE ABLE TO TRANSLATE WHILST IN LABOUR As mentioned, future husband and I moved here in 2007, May to be exact. We tied the knot the following year and, doing the maths, I must have ended up getting pregnant in September 2008. My pregnancy, thankfully, was straightforward despite the fact that I was not the youngest mother ever. On a Thursday morning I woke up early about 6am needing the loo and noticed some slight bleeding. I don’t recall being overly concerned as I’d heard this could happen near to the due date, but I woke up my husband and off we went to the hospital. Seen very quickly by a doctor (“the doctor” as I will refer to him now, sadly too much time has passed for me to remember his name). He reassured me everything was OK and it would be at least another week or so before our baby would arrive. Very good, reassured, home again and husband out to work. At about 10:30am the contractions started. No panic, early stages, but husband returned home and off we trotted to the hospital again (yes, typical first time parents). Seen by “the doctor” again, some kind of test done, reassured again it wasn’t going to happen that and sent off home again. No surprise, the contractions steadily increased in frequency so at about 6pm we returned yet again to the hospital and this time I was admitted. It was a different doctor who was on duty at that moment. We were shown into a very spacious delivery room and all the necessary medical steps undertaken. I’m going to fast forward a little here, partly due to lack of memory, but also to leave something for another tale. I can’t remember the hour but I know I’d been in labour for what felt like a decade. I believe it could have been some time in the early hours of Friday (husband – any recollection?). Contractions had been proceeding as they should, ie frequent and blooming painful, and body was doing everything it should (need I go into detail?). However, there was one thing that wasn’t playing ball – the future joy of my life!! Despite pushing with every contraction my baby just wasn’t budging. I think this was early indications of her being like her daddy!! By this time “the doctor” was back on duty and when he walked into our delivery room I could see his surprise at us being back. Not my fault our baby had decided to come along earlier than he anticipated. Now at this point I must interject and explain something. After two years of living in Spain our Spanish was so-so. Both of being British we speak English at home and our jobs both use English. Consequently, we only really needed Spanish when we were out and about and it’s amazing how you can get by. We were learning Spanish, but just hadn’t mastered it by the time of giving birth. We stilll haven’t now, but it is a heck of a lot better. My Spanish is, and if I’m honest, has always been a bit better than my husband’s (sorry husband but it’s true). However, I will admit that his listening skills are usually better than mine. I had already advised my husband well in advance of labour that I would not be able to translate whilst in labour, believing – and quite rightly so – that my mind and body would be otherwise occupied. So, back to the story. In walks “the doctor”, surprise registered and then he starts talking and explaining something to me. Not one word made any sense and he must have mistaken my blank look for either foreigner understanding or mother-to-be-in-lots-of-pain-understands-everything-look. I look at my husband for translation/explanation/clarity, basically anything and got just a reassuring smile in return. In that moment the next contraction happened and at the same time “the doctor” leaned over me, one hand grabbed the opposite bed rail and the elbow of his other arm
