The Lump I gaze out of the window looking at the busy scene four floors down. I watch the hustle and bustle of London #life. Robots dressed in power suits, sweaty hands gripping leather cases holding important documents. Heads down, not making eye contact with the other passing power suits. A few are on their phones rubbing furrowed brows as they exchange words with their call recipient. I feel a warm hand squeeze on my shoulder and turn to see the face of my equally anxious husband. "You know everything will be fine don't you?" I state looking into his dark blue loving eyes. I'm not sure if this was a statement more to reassure me or him. He stepped towards me and I felt his warm body close to me as he tilted his head and gently kissed me on the lips. Still in this anxious state I could feel my heart flutter at his perfect kiss. From day one I knew he was the man for me, and I'd be happy for the rest of my #life. Deliriously happy! We pulled back and gazed into each other's eyes breathing each other in. A slight smile appeared at the corners of his mouth and in turn mine did the same. "Caroline?" Our moment was broken by the voice of someone I didn't recognise. We both turned our heads and looked at a woman who looked young enough to still be at school. She held her hand out to me. Her fingers were cool and boney as I took them in mine, but they felt safe and secure as she gripped mine. She had a warm, confident smile. I needed that. WE needed that. "My name is Dr Salter. I'm the Doctor assisting with your surgery today. I just need to discuss a few things with you, and get a signed consent to say it's okay to go ahead with your surgery." My husband and I moved towards the bed and I sat comfortably...well as comfortable as I could propped up against the pillows. My husband sat beside me and took my left hand in his, as we watched Dr Salter pull the curtains around us and pull up a chair. The next twenty minutes passed quickly as she talked 'at' us. A whirlwind of information. Some we wanted to know, and some we'd rather not know, but understood it was all protocol, and all part of the informed consent. I sign the consent form obediently after listening to her scary information. She'd listened to my heart, gripped my wrist, asked all sorts a questions, looked at my ankles, then finally squeezed and prodded my tummy before leaving in efficient silence. It must be so routine for medical staff that they must forget sometimes they are dealing with people's feelings and anxieties. Sure, they give you a chance to ask questions, but you can always spot the surreptitious glance at their watch as their pager goes off for a third time as you are having your allocated twenty minute 'slot' with them. My husband stood and pulled the curtain back surrounding us, that had been cocooning us in a communal silence. Sometimes the silence actually speaks volumes, and I can tell we are both incredibly nervous about the pending surgery and are trying to be brave for each other. As he pulls back the final curtain, a Nurse approaches with my notes and a gown in her hand. "Sorry. I just need to run through the check list and get you into a gown if that's okay, they'll be calling for you in the next half hour." She states with a tired smile. I'm guessing she's done this a thousand times before. To her I'm probably just another patient. Despite my anxieties, I do as I am told, trusting my #life in these people's hands until I come out of surgery and can look after myself again. We run through the check list. My wedding ring gets taped, and all other jewellery is removed and passed on to my husband to look after. I rub my tummy anxiously as she leaves. "Please let everything be okay" I silently say to myself. Once again the curtains are opened and I feel as vulnerable as ever as I sit perched in the bed waiting...waiting...waiting. Then it's time. Time to walk to the operating theatre. My husband and I walk behind the Nurse. Hands gripped in unison. Palms sweaty. As we reach the theatre I turn to him, and look one last time into his eyes. "See you in a bit darling." I hug him tight and he kisses me on the neck. Then we pull apart, hands and fingers trailing until we finally part. I'm taken through into a cold, air conditioned room full of equipment and masked people making little eye contact, each with their own jobs to carry out to ensure their operating conveyor belt runs efficiently and effectively. I lay back on the bed as requested by one of the masked team, and look at the ceiling. A few tired pictures of beach scenes and forest walks are stuck to the ceiling. Corners ripped and fading. I concentrate on one beach scene and close my eyes. As I drift, I hear my name mentioned a few times, a sharp stab to the back of my hand, a few more words...then I feel warmth and disappear into a haze... "Caroline...Caroline...wake up now" I struggle to open my eyes and snuggle into my pillow. I try to turn, but a searing pain shoots through my tummy which stops me in my tracks. I drift off again... "Caroline...Caroline..." I open my eyes and it takes me a few seconds for them to adjust and realise where I am. I feel a squeeze on my hand and turn my head to the right. There's my man. Standing over me. Looking at me with total love. I'm assuming he knows the result already. I look pleadingly into his eyes. He has tears in his eyes and my heart lurches. I'm scared. A smile then appears on his face as the tears trickle down his cheeks and his eyes move downwards. I too look down. ...and there she is. Through the plastic box I can see a pink wriggly bundle. 'My lump'. Our baby girl that we have been anxiously waiting for. I fall in love with her instantly...