One surprise had already threatened my starring role, so when another hit, I was determined the show would go on! By Nikki Johnstone, 34
Standing in front of the director, I tried to contain my nerves.
Having just moved to a new home with my partner Stewart, I’d wasted no time in finding the local amateur theatre group.
I’d done drama since my teens, but never in the lead role. Yet here I was, auditioning for the part of nightclub singer Reno Sweeney in the musical Anything Goes.
And the next day, I was told: ‘You’ve got the part.’
It was a dream come true.
Even better, Stewart had bagged a part in the chorus as a sailor. He’d never done theatre before, but he’d joined the group with me so he could share my passion.
We started rehearsing twice a week at the church hall. But six months in, I started feeling so sick, I couldn’t keep my dinner down. I was exhausted all the time too.
‘Why now?’ I complained to my sister-in-law.
‘You might be pregnant,’ she said.
‘I don’t think so,’ I replied.
But I took a pregnancy test and Stewart and I were shocked when it turned positive.
'It's opening night soon'
I wondered if I’d be well enough to continue with the show.
‘It’s opening night soon,’ I fretted to Stewart.
Although a scan revealed I was already 16 weeks gone, my doctor told me it was fine for me to perform in the six-show run.
At the dress rehearsal just before the first show, Stewart and I announced my pregnancy to the cast and crew.
‘We might be stars of the show, but we’ve got another little star in the making,’ I said.
They were all thrilled for us and made sure they were gentle with me!
Opening night arrived, and the show went down a storm.
Strutting around the stage in a glittery dress, I was in my element.
It felt even more special to share the performance with my unborn baby.
The final night was always the biggest, especially as it was on a Saturday.
Hundreds arrived to watch our grand finale, and when the curtains came up, I hit the audience with everything I had.
After the opening number, I went off to the side of the stage to watch the next scene. But it was pitch black and I accidentally tripped over part of the set.
Instinctively trying to protect my bump, I turned and put my left arm out.
As I crashed to the floor, pain surged through my arm, but luckily my bump was fine.
I stifled a scream as another actor helped me up.
The cast and crew backstage thought I’d fallen on my stomach and offered to call 999 in a panic.
‘No, it’s just my arm,’ I grimaced. ‘I can go on.’
Although I was in agony, I went back out and performed my dances and scenes, wincing as I linked arms with my co-star.
I had to adapt to what I could manage with the pain, and when I spotted the director in the audience, I could tell she was wondering why I was changing up the dance moves!
Two hours later, the show finally ended, and Stewart bundled me straight into the car.
At A&E, and still in costume, I had an X-ray, which revealed my arm was broken.
Doctors couldn’t believe it when I told them I’d kept performing for two hours after the break.
The baby was fine, but my arm and hand were so swollen they had to cut my ring off my finger.
‘Only I could break my arm while pregnant, moments after my opening number!’ I said, laughing.
On the way back to our home in Falkirk, we stopped by the after-party.
‘How did you do the whole show with a broken arm?’ a cast member asked.
‘Oh well, the show must go on!’ I replied.
I’d heard of people saying break a leg for good luck, but an arm was a new one!
I had to wear a cast for another two months, juggling the pain of the break with the last stages of my pregnancy.
Shortly after I had my cast off, little Flynn made his grand entrance.
Since then Stewart and I have also had a daughter, Holly.
I don’t know if either of them has inherited my theatrical genes yet. But I always tell Flynn he was the star of the show before he was even born!