Well this is my massive bump at four months! It seems HUGE and is more than likely the reason for my sleepless nights and deathly dark circles, but somehow all is forgiven and I’m just happy to see the baby growing well.
I dropped off a urine sample to the doctors today as my midwife had instructed some months ago that I should take in a sample at 16wks as a routine checkup and left me a pot for when the time came. So this morning between getting Millie ready for school and driving to work I tried my best to fill the pot. Not only did I suffer from stage fright when I only had a matter of minutes to do the deed before being late for work, but, not meaning to be crude I have terrible aim! I don’t see how a girl is supposed to perfect the balance of a tiny pot as small as a christmas cocktail stick holder, whilst hovering over a public toilet seat (ladies don’t sit in public as we’ve all heard the horror stories of cold wet thighs!) and trying to aim with as much chance as chucking an elephant into a basketball hoop. So my donation was somewhat lacking but showed willing. Afterall its the taking part that counts and I firmly believe in quality over quantity which was just as well. I was able to leave it at the reception desk much to the delight of the receptionist who is obviously used to dealing in units of urine with her customers, and I was told it would be passed on for observation and there was no need to see or speak to a doctor.
So merrily I headed off to work, only to receive a voicemail some hours later from the doctors saying that my sample had been sent to the hospital to be checked and that I should call back in two days time to find out the results. I can’t lie, it made my heart sink and I’ve been a bit of a cabbage for the rest of the day ever since as my mind reverts back to panic mode. I don’t want to live my days like this always thinking the worst will happen, but I wasn’t expecting any contact, let alone the mention of that terrible word ‘hospital’. As far as I was told we had our three month tests and results back for blood and urine and all was fine, then routinely you have more bloods and urine taken silently being none the wiser to the paperwork and testing that goes on behind the scenes simply for the purpose of monitoring. So I’m sat here again with clammy hands and an ever-growing worry line across my forehead, which seems to have grown so deep recently I could be mistaken for a pug dog without a collar. And to make matters worse in passing conversation today a member of the public congratulated me on my bump and said how their sister-in-laws baby had sadly died at five months for no reason!? Which frankly isn’t the best thing to say to a pregnant girl! I wouldn’t go up to an alcoholic and remind them it’s happy hour at Chicago’s! But I guess it’s been one of them silly days when I panic and tell myself I need to see a sign to reassure my stress-monster that all will be ok, but instead spontaneous strangers chip in with worrying tales of tragedy and death. I tried to convince myself that wasn’t supposed to be MY sign, as two magpies would be better, or seeing a rainbow or a butterfly or even Jesus visiting me on my lunch break. So as it didnt match my positive criteria of denial, the random terror-speader doesn’t count.
But thinking about it now, maybe they’ve checked my medical notes and seen a difference in my test results? Perhaps because I’m listed as a non-smoker and I am passively around people who smoke daily so my urine has indicated I’m a tin-lunged dragon? Or the fact I swore that I don’t touch a drop of alcohol yet I didn’t disclose that I sometimes use mouthwash (which weirdly enough contains alcohol and since I’ve realised I will now avoid at all costs), perhaps my urine is 98% hard spirits and they want to refer me to an alcoholic rehab centre for bad mothers (who have children by separate fathers)? God only knows! Anyway, I shall try my best to put it to the back of my mind until Thursday when I make the call for my results, how fortunate I am to find there is dinner to be made, washing to be folded and the bathroom to be descaled, I don’t know how my stress-monster would cope if I was left to rest with just my thoughts! The joys of being a woman!