"Let's do the blood pressure first," Lottie's midwife suggests as soon as we enter the hospital room. "Your BP is always high when I take it after the scan. Roll up your sleeve, Charlotte."

Today was our routine check up with the midwife and seeing as I had the day off work, I decided to accompany Lottie to her appointment. I hated missing out on them because I wanted to be as involved as I could be with this pregnancy, seeing as I didn't get this far the last time around. It drives Lottie mad that I come with her; sometimes I can't switch off from doctor mode and I take over from Benjamin or the midwife which annoys Lottie in the extreme. I'm amazed that she hasn't thrown me out of any of her appointments yet. 

"Everything looks good," the midwife smiles at us. Pointing at the bed, she doesn't need to give Lottie any more instructions as we're more than used to the whole routine by now. "I'm not sure if anyone told you, but Dr Copeland is off today and another doctor will be seeing you."

At that announcement, my heart went into overdrive. Ben never told me that he was off today. If he had, I'd have rearranged the day and time to make sure that he was the doctor that we'd be seeing. He's Nugget's cardiologist, he should be here. I swear if they've given us some junior doctor that's never dealt with Nugget's condition before, I will be going directly to my boss and giving him a piece of my mind. I'm sure Bob would understand. 

"I don't want another doctor," Lottie says as she starts to sit up on the bed and pulling down her t-shirt to cover her exposed stomach. There was panic in her voice. "I like Ben. I trust Ben. I don't want anyone but Ben!"

The midwife tried to plead with Lottie to stay, even going so far as to throw me the same look, hoping that I could talk sense into the hysterical pregnant woman. I shook my head and stood up from the bedside chair, ready to follow Lottie out of here. We were almost ready to leave when the door opened and in walked the replacement doctor. 

He was short, balding and wore glasses that were similar to Hary Potter. "Ah, Charlotte, wonderful to meet you at last, dear," the doctor greeted Lottie like they were old friends. "I've heard so much about you from Isaac here."

"Excuse me?" Lottie's shocked voice filled the lingering silence that followed. She turned to me, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper despite the fact that the others could hear her too. "Do you know him?"

"Lottie, this is my boss, Dr Robert Wilmott," I make the first introduction. Turning to the lead doctor in my department, I nod at him. "Bob, Lottie. Uh, I guess I may have mentioned you a few times, babe."

Lottie rolled her eyes, probably not believing that I only ever mentioned her a 'few' times. I know that I talk about her more than that. Since Lottie and I became official, I've been more open at work about my personal life, talking about the woman that I love, the baby that we're having and the daughter that I've kept hidden from them ever since I started working here. To say that Bob was surprised was an injustice to his actual reaction. A mentor to me since my first shift at GOSH, Bob must have thought he knew everything about me; he certainly knew about my reputation amongst the female doctors and nurses which may go some way in explaining the brief fainting spell he had when I called Lottie my girlfriend for the first time. 

"Well, dear, hop onto the bed and let's have a look, shall we?" Bob's calming voice won Lottie over instantly and she was quick to follow his instructions. 

She retook her position on the bed, pulling up her t-shirt and lowering the band of her maternity jeans. She winced when the cold gel touched her skin but once the black and white image of the baby filled the screen, her eyes- and mine- were transfixed. 

"Well, the heart looks good," Bob commented. For reasons I've never understood, Bob liked to look at ultrasounds without his glasses and seeing as he was very short sighted, this meant that he got as close to the monitor as possible. His nose practically touched the screen. Turning away briefly, he flicked through the pages of notes Ben had recorded previously and lifted his eyes back up. After a few clicks on the screen, he took new measurements and nodded. "No change in the size of the defect. The heart rate is steady if a little ragged. Mhm, yes, that's good. And that. Yes, everything is looking wonderful. Perfect." He kept going on like this, speaking to himself, for another minute before he started looking over every other inch of the baby. "Yes, that looks fine. Developing as expected. Excellent. Great. Ah, Isaac, you never told me you were having a boy. Congratulations! No, wait, that's the umbilical cord-"

"Lottie doesn't know the sex of the baby, Bob," I tell him, giving him an annoyed look. "She's waiting until Nugget makes his or her debut."

Bob nods, even if he doesn't look up from the monitor. "Noted. Well, the umbilical cord looks fine, not tangled, away from the neck. Perfect." He keeps going, moving down the baby's body. I wish I could wrap a cord around Bob's neck. Idiot. "Yes, looking good there. And there. Legs look good. I'd bet my house on the baby having ten toes. Let's have a lookie at the hands. Yes! Ten fingers, too, I'd say. Well, Charlotte, I have to say that everything looks as it should here. The good news is that there haven't been any changes in the defect since Ben last performed a scan. This gives me an indication of what we can offer once the baby does arrive."

Once the scan was over, Bob decided to interrogate Lottie some more, wanting to know anything and everything about her. Like he hadn't heard all of it from me already. Nevertheless, as Bob kept asking questions and Lottie kept politely answering, I kept a steady glare on my boss. I was so going to kill him during my shift tomorrow. 

After fifteen minutes of listening to Bob and Lottie getting no like a house on fire, my phone rang. Thanking all the Gods in the Heavens above for this intervention, I quickly answered the call and brought the handset up to my ear. I hadn't even bothered to look at who was calling me. 

"Isaac, dahl-" My mother. "I've been trying to get a hold of you all morning."

Liar. My phone hasn't rung once. Apart from this time. 

"Charlotte's phone keeps ringing out," Mum continues. That would explain why she never got a hold of me- she was ringing my girlfriend instead. Where's the logic in that? "Your sisters and I are going out for lunch and we were wondering if you and Charlotte wanted to join us. We've bought a few things for the baby. Of course, if you want to go home and have some afternoon delight, that's fine, too."

Since she walked in on me and Lottie, my mother hasn't stopped teasing us about it. Not that Lottie and I get embarrassed about it- it was a fun day in the bedroom. 

I didn't need to ask Lottie about her plans for today. Once the appointment at the hospital was done, she was heading back to La Petite so she could show Nate a few computer things for when he takes over from her at the end of the month. Lottie has already scaled back her workload but she liked to show her face at the shop every once in a while so she could see how things were going. It drove Nate mad but we've already agreed that once Nugget arrives, Lottie won't be stepping foot inside the shop for at least a month. This was on the agreement that I didn't attend Poker Night and Martha went on a one-month social media ban. Apparently, if Lottie had to suffer, so did we. 

"Lottie has plans but I can meet you," I offer. Just my luck, the one time I volunteer to hang out with my family, they'll turn me down because they no-so-secretly prefer my girlfriend to me. 

"Oh, that'll be lovely," Mum says breezily. "You can help me talk some sense into May. For some odd reason, she listens to you more than me. It's not like I didn't push her out of my vagina or anything."

I frown. "Mum, you had a C-section with the twins. You didn't push either out of your vagina." Bob and Lottie abruptly stopped their conversation to look at me. Bob was taken aback while Lottie was trying really hard to stifle her laugh. Ignoring them both, I turn my attention back to my mother. "Text me the details and I'll be there. See you later."

I was half an hour late meeting my family. Bob wouldn't let us leave until he finished giving Lottie advice on how to create a foolproof birthing plan which made for some uncomfortable listening for me. I had to practically drag us out of there, hastily agreeing that Lottie and I would join Bob and his wife soon for dinner. While I love Jan Wilmott, introducing her to Lottie would be like throwing a lamb to the slaughter- not happening on my watch. 

Dropping Lottie off at work, I hot-footed my way over to the Delaney Hotel, where my family had been staying. I've only ever been to the hotel a handful of times so on the way in, I had to stop and ask the concierge where the restaurant was. I followed the directions he gave me, which were far more complicated than they needed to be, and quickly found the table harbouring my mother and two sisters. 

Alice stood to greet me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders as she pulled me into a hug. "You agree with me that the name Killian is cute, right?" She said in lieu of a greeting. 

"Yeah, cute," I noted, nodding my head half-heartedly. When I took my seat at the table, I noticed the I told you so look Alice gave Mum and May. Catching what was going on, I sigh and shake my head. "Lottie and I are not naming the baby Killian. It's her dad's middle name and we decided not to go down the route of honouring family members like that. Plus, I lied when I said it was cute."

We ordered lunch and Mum started the flow of conversation, asking countless questions about the house, how Lottie had enjoyed the baby shower, what our plans were for Martha's birthday, and then came the big question. 

"When are you asking Charlotte to marry you?" Mum demanded when we were all done with our main course. 

Her beady eyes, narrowed due to the face lift she had earlier this year, stared at me, the cool blue sending a shiver down my spine. I had already told her that I wouldn't be asking Lottie to marry me because we agreed that having a baby was a bigger commitment but as always when I tell her anything over Skype, she likes to pretend that I never really said it at all. That's why she was asking me again, although my answer was the same. 

"Never," I say. Picking up my wine glass, I drain the contents and refill it, knowing that I would need the top up. My actions caught the eye of my sister, May, and the way her lips quirked up at the edge annoyed me. "Are you going to your anger management classes?"

Someone gasped but I chose to ignore it. While everyone else may be willing to tiptoe around this subject, I certainly wasn't. To me, it's a bloody miracle she wasn't arrested. We all tried to get Xavier to press charges for domestic abuse but he wouldn't have any of it, saying that May had never meant to hurt him and that he probably had done something to deserve it. It was complete bullshit, of course. 

In the few hours after Xavier got out of the hospital and before my family flew back to Sydney, I had found a rehab centre that specialised in anger management and the rehabilitation of abusive partners. I signed May up, paid the three months that it would take to complete the programme, and crossed my fingers that she would attend. Whenever I tried to ask Mum about it, she would fob me off with another story meaning that I didn't have an actual answer to my question. Dad was a man of few words so he never spoke about it and Alice liked to pretend it wasn't happening because if her twin could be violent like that, could she?

"I went," May finally answered. She sipped on her wine. Clearly, she hadn't taken on board anything the programme had taught her because part of the rehab was that she wasn't allowed to drink during the three months and not for another three months after. "Then I decided that I didn't really need to be there."

I scoffed. "No, you need to be in prison." In my peripheral vision, I saw my mother open her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. "I honestly don't get how you can't see that what you've done is wrong. You need professional help, May. If you don't get it now, the next time you decide to beat the shit out of your fiancé, you'll end up killing him. Maybe then you'll get what you deserve."

"Isaac-"

"No, Alice," I snap. I give her a withering glare and turn my attention back to May. "Everyone may think that I'm saying this to be mean but I'm not. You need help, May, and if I have to be cruel to be kind then that's what I'll do. If you're not going to go to rehab in Sydney, I can find one here in the UK and make sure that you go. All this abuse has to stop. Your choice."

As I expected, silence lingered in the air and not one person echoed my words. It was a sign that they were either condoning her behaviour or ignoring it but I couldn't be one of those people.

"If you don't do this, May, I can't have you around my family," I speak quietly. I hated that the words were coming from my mouth but it was what I felt was in my heart. How could I trust May to be around Martha and Nugget when she was prone to violence? Would Martha think it's ok to be like that? Would May hurt Nugget because babies cry a lot? I couldn't allow myself to put my children in that situation. I shake my head gravely. "I'm sorry but no. My kids come first, above everything, including you. I'm their father and it's my duty to keep them safe and you, May, you're not safe. You're a ticking time bomb."

I hoped after my speech that May would see sense, that Mum would side with me, that Alice would echo my thoughts, but nothing happened. They all sat there, avoiding me. Shaking my head at their attitude- which was just as bad as May, really- I decided that I wouldn't waste more breath. Standing from my seat at the table, I forcefully throw down my napkin. "Then on your conscience be it. I'll book your return flight for Friday and settle your bill with the hotel. I'm sorry that you had a wasted trip to London."

I left, not caring to look back. The ball, as they say, is in their court now.   

Many of you asked what Isaac's stance on the whole May thing and how people weren't really focusing on her being abusive so hopefully this clears things up for you. 

I know you all hate me for teasing you the baby's gender but there isn't long to go until Nugget arrives. Here's what I can tell you about Nugget-

1. Nugget will be born a few weeks early on September 10th 2017 at 8:34 am.

2. Nugget will weigh 6 pounds 10 ounces

3. Nugget's initials shall be SEF (the 'F' being Fletcher, of course.)

Just in case you're all wondering about the title of the chapter, ever heard about ostriches burying their heads in the sand to avoid stuff? (UberFacts tells me that this is not true but they saying still exists). It's to do with the denial May is going through. 

Anyway, that's about it. I am now watching Rogue One because I enjoyed The FOrce Awakens so much a few weeks ago. That's the highlight of my week so far. How is yours going? The weekend isn't that far away!

See you on Sunday my dears. (I'll probably do an early update because I know I'm going out in the afternoon!)

Sarah xx