Skip to main content

Sometimes I just get mad.

I am not a happy bunny today.

I had a doctor's appointment last week to have some moles checked (pregnancy makes all sorts of stuff go wonky, moles being one of them). The doctor mentioned that it was time to have my 25 week checkup and had me book an appointment for today. I asked him what the appointment would cover, and he replied that it was just a general checkup.

I got there this morning, he checked my blood pressure and asked if the baby was very active, all normal stuff, but then he asked me to hop up on the examining table. As this was a first, I asked what for. He said "to hear the heartbeat of the baby".

!!!

Had he told me last week that this would be the first appointment at which we would hear the baby's heartbeat, Himself would have taken the morning off work. That way, he could have been there for this milestone. Pardon me if I'm sounding a little overdramatic about it, but Himself has been there for all the firsts. He was there for the first scan, he felt her move before anyone else, he was there when we found out the sex... he should have been there when we heard her heartbeat.

I managed not to cry, but it was a close run thing. It's a shame all around, Himself not being there sort of ruined it for me. I mean, it was still incredible to hear her little heart going a mile a minute, but all I could think of was the Himselflessness of the moment.

I have another appointment in three weeks, and the doctor said that from now until she's on the outside we'll hear the heartbeat at every appointment, so Himself is going to try to get that day off. It still won't make up for it, but he's still excited to hear her. I just wish he could have today.

Comments

  1. Anonymous1 July 2011 at 00:53

    I'm sorry to hear that :( Paul Wall should back hand the doctor and file for malpractice.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous1 July 2011 at 00:53

    (Jokes.)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The real deal.

So, I thought I'd been having cravings for the last couple of weeks because I've been eating loads of tuna and pasta, seemed like that was all I wanted to eat. Tuna sandwiches with a cup of tomato soup to dip them in, and egg noodle pasta for some reason. That is, until Monday night. Monday night, Himself called me on his way home from work as usual and asked if we needed anything (again, as usual). I said no, that I'd already been to the store but I wasn't really hungry anyway, and that I'd see him when he got home. I settled in with the cats on the couch and started flicking channels, getting the girlie TV out of the way so that Himself wouldn't have to suffer through it when he got home... Half an hour later, it struck. All of a sudden, out of the blue, I was starving. It wasn't the usual "go rifle through the kitchen until I happen upon something that looks edible" hunger. It was specific, overpowering, CRAVING hunger. What did I want,
4 comments
Read more

Lazy weekend.

Bliss. Sun, moglets, sun, loads of good food, sun, and Himself. Good combo, let me tell you. We let the moggies out sans leads for the first time on Thursday (sporting their new collars and tags, and freshly dosed with flea drops), just for about an hour to see how they handled it. Both of them tore headlong into the flowerbeds in search of new smells and the occasional bug to eat. On Friday I left the back doors of the conservatory flung open to let the seriously amazing weather in and the felines out. This turned into me sitting in the conservatory for longer than I'd care to admit, book discarded to one side because watching them chase bees, butterflies and each other was more amusing. Saturday morning dawned clear and sunny, so I hied myself down to the conservatory (as I woke up around half six and thought Himself might rather sleep a LITTLE longer...) for a bowl of muesli, a cup of peppermint tea, some reading and yet more book neglecting as I watched the lunatics conti
6 comments
Read more

Dreams and other nocturnal habits.

I've always been a dreamer, in the literal sense. From a very young age I've been able to remember my dreams, and once I started a dream one night and finished it the next. This sounds great, and I've had some seriously fabulous nocturnal journeys through time and space, but on the flip side, not all dreams are good ones. I've had some proper toe-curling nightmares, and some of the worst ones have been in my adult years. The reason this is on my mind particularly right now is that I had a pretty gnarly one night before last, and during yesterday's aforementioned pestering phone call to my sister I told her about it. She told me that her boyfriend had been doing a little reading about dreams in general, and had researched (and actually put into practice) a tactic of dreaming deliberately. The research he found described the way to consciously go to sleep with a certain event or setting in mind, which basically ensures where your dreams will go. Apparently this
3 comments
Read more