Monday, 2 July 2012
Warning; Pregnant lady whinges.
Mentally I feel very fustrated at the amount of things I want to do but can't. I'm longing for long walks on the seafront but loose my breath just getting to the fridge. I desperately want to wear my favourite tops and trousers but am forced to wear mostly OH's clothes and trousers the size of circus tents. When I have a bath, OH likes to knock on the door and either warn me that chinese whalers are coming or that Greenpeace is on the phone asking if I've been beached.
Now I'm getting closer to the end I'm also getting fed up with all the fuss and attention from medical types. I hate being fussed over at the best of times. I just want to be left to get on with things to be honest. Bump is squirming and having hiccups constantly, all my scans have been fine with no problems and the midwife has told me to "brace yourself cause it's a good size baby". So why must I continue to be prodded and measured and have to wee into cups?
I have to see my consultant on wednesday and I am not looking forward to it. Last time I saw (while pregnant with DD) he told me I was stupid for refusing blood tests and that he couldn't do anything without test results and told me to leave. This time I refused my first 3 appointments made on my behalf by a midwife who is sending me for everything possible in the vague hope I will attend at least something. Ironically it would seem I can't get the go ahead for a home birth unless I have his consent. So if I don't get his consent and a midwife turns up halfway through the birth at my home I assume she will have a magic button that pauses everything while your whisked away to a hospital because some stranger who doesn't know me (or seem to like me) didn't say I could. Daft.
x x x
P.S Forgive the hormonal whine, I'm sure I will fill better in the morning or failing that September when all this is over with and I can concentrate on the best bit of having a baby.