Yesterday was my booking in appointment with the midwife. She turned up an hour and a half late, then spent most of our appointment on the telephone to other pregnant women, so I'm reassured to know the level of care will be just as good during this pregnancy. Actually, this time may be a little different since I've been referred to a consultant due to the last baby being macrosomic (in other words a whopper!). Apparently this means I should be scanned at around 36 weeks to see how big this one is getting, which is reassuring. Obviously I'll be tested for gestational diabetes too, since it's not especially common for a petite woman (5"2 and 8 stone) to have a baby weighing over 10 pounds.
Of course, all of this is if we get that far. I can't switch off the anxiety over that one and I can't stop checking for bleeding either, I tell myself it's for reassurance but it's not good for my nerves either. The midwife has made it all real and official now, but it's strange talking of the future and being 36 weeks or 20 week scans when I daren't think that far ahead, I daren't talk yet like this baby is real and is going to happen. I daren't make plans, not just yet, let's get past that 12 week scan first without any bleeding or such horrors and then we'll talk. Me and the husband are trying to avoid any speculating or planning just yet, we've been stung that way before.
So four more weeks to go - fingers, toes and everything crossed that can be crossed. My Love Film rental list has been freshly filled and I'm planning on spending as much time as possible in other worlds until this icky phase ends. Wish me luck.
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