I have convinced The Girl that Generation X were so-named for the X-Men and as such we all have phsyic powers like Jean Gray.
And, because the baby has double mutant genes it will simply teleport out of my womb when it is ready to be born and save me miles & miles & miles of stitches!
If this is so, however, I have been reminded that it will be ineffective to send him/her to his/her room when s/he is bad.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Goldilocks and the D3
I received a phone call from the doctor’s surgery today to tell me my blood results are back and that I’m pretty damn low in Vitamin D.
Fair enough, it explains the tiredness and bruising a little but when she first introduced herself on the phone my breath stopped.
Now, just this week I started taking a general pregnancy multi-vitamin that has already made me feel a little better, especially in the heat when I didn’t want to eat anything but iceblocks.
To put things in perspective, instead of working solidly to my usual Thursday routine today I’ve had ‘the talk’ with my boss and the idea of being officially unemployed next year is making me squeamish, then I had a meeting with a community group that sucked up the rest of the day on patting backs and kissing…cheeks.
So I was very self-aware that my own patience was already at stretching point and I did not want to go to the pharmacy and I had things to do back in the office.
I was already frazzled, I admit that.
…so here’s where it starts heating up.
I front up to the pharmacy with my instruction for 1000 units of Vitamin D.
The pharmacist I’m talking to speaks English as a second language and has a habit of saying ‘yes’ when she means ‘no’ and vice versa.
She pointed out that they had a few choices for me.
There was a choice of 1000 units of Vitamin D (there was something called D3 but we won’t even go there), there was the 250 units and the 500 units but that comes with calcium built in.
I am already taking 250 units of D in my multivitamin and 59mg of calcium.
The instruction says I can take two tablets of the multivitamin daily – I’m only taking one (my argument is we eat well, I only need one, one has made enough of a difference).
…are you keeping up?
Ok – so I can’t take the 1000 unit tablets. That’s too much.
I don't want to buy the 250 units - that really isn’t enough.
But the 500 units has Calcium.
And I asked ‘are there any dangers associated with taking too much calcium’? And the pharmacist said ‘no, your kidneys’, with a worried look on her face.
…still with me?
Now in the middle of this we’ve had three visits behind the desk to consult with the other pharmacist and check the computer for information about this cocktail of minerals, vitamins & trace elements.
Ok – so I walk back to the wall of vitamins and I pull down the one I’m already taking and arrange about $220 worth of bottles in front of me on the counter and start playing that game where the fraudster shuffles cups around in front of you.
‘Ok,’ I say. ‘I can’t take this one,” slide to the right. ‘But this one and this one,’ slide to the left, ‘aren’t enough?’
Then she has her turn.
‘Ah, but this one,’ slide to the right ‘you should be taking two of, and that is too much to take this one as well,’ slide to the left.
‘But I’m only taking one of these,’ feint right, slide back ‘do I need to take two if the one I’m taking is making me feel better?’
‘But your doctor said…’
...stop. Recoup.
‘Can I take too much Vitamin D?’
‘mmmmh? Maybe you should ring your doctor to be sure.’
'But I won't see my doctor until the 30th and I'd like to sort this out now as they implied that I really need to get some more Vitamin D into me.'
And then I asked again.
‘Is there a level of calcium that is unsafe?’
‘No. But your kidneys’
What?! What is that? Is that a ‘no’ or a ‘yes’?
I tried again. From a slightly different angle.
‘Is there a problem if I take too much calcium?’
‘Oh no, calcium is very good for your teeth and bones and when the baby’s teeth and bones are forming…but you should not take too much because it is bad for your kidneys.’
…now, this is where you stop, and breathe.
Because it’s sure as hell what I had to do at that point.
I actually felt myself step back from the counter in some kind of self-censorship of my thoughts...or in preparation for leaping over the lipgloss testers and jelly beans to throttle the mild-manner chemist.
So, while the pharmacist went back to her computer (I'll just check) I stormed out of the pharmacy with two bottles in my hand (unpaid for mind you & valued at roughly the same amount as my eldest child's annual school fees) to where I’d seen the local GP taking getting her hair tinted in the hairdresser’s next door.
The poor be-foiled, be-smocked medico was confronted by a red-faced virago shaking a giant bottle in each hand like maraccas and shouting: ‘can I take this with this without my baby growing tusks or having a concertina spine?’
Her answer: ‘yup – no problem’.
…oh no. I’m not done yet.
Back through the swinging doors of the pharmacy like a gunslinger I strode, slapping down my two bottles amidst the cornucopia of supplements now littering the counter, along with the $80 of giftware I’d somehow collected by osmosis in my half hour of prolonged negotiations.
Shocked by the final amount, I split it between my card and account, already itching to be back at my desk and put as much distance as possible between me and the pharmacist’s eager but uncertain expression.
I stormed up the street like a madwoman with my arms full of rattling bottles and gift-wrapped boxes (I’m sorry, that won’t fit in our bags) only to discover as I unpacked all the bits and bobs into my bag at the office that I HAD JUST SPENT AN EXTRA $66 TO PURCHASE THE ‘EXAMPLE’ VITAMINS I HAD ALREADY BOUGHT A WEEK AGO!
…I may, just possibly, have been sobbing by this point.
So back went the virago, waving a bottle the size of a teapot in front of her.
‘I don’t want this one!’
And the lovely, sweet, mild-looking pharmacist said to me ‘but I don’t know how to refund an account purchase’.
Which is about where the retail assistant made eye contact with me from the depths of the shelves (her eyes urgent and placating, mine wide and manic), leaned over to the pharmacist and whispered ‘F2’.
…and that was juuuust right.
Fair enough, it explains the tiredness and bruising a little but when she first introduced herself on the phone my breath stopped.
Now, just this week I started taking a general pregnancy multi-vitamin that has already made me feel a little better, especially in the heat when I didn’t want to eat anything but iceblocks.
To put things in perspective, instead of working solidly to my usual Thursday routine today I’ve had ‘the talk’ with my boss and the idea of being officially unemployed next year is making me squeamish, then I had a meeting with a community group that sucked up the rest of the day on patting backs and kissing…cheeks.
So I was very self-aware that my own patience was already at stretching point and I did not want to go to the pharmacy and I had things to do back in the office.
I was already frazzled, I admit that.
…so here’s where it starts heating up.
I front up to the pharmacy with my instruction for 1000 units of Vitamin D.
The pharmacist I’m talking to speaks English as a second language and has a habit of saying ‘yes’ when she means ‘no’ and vice versa.
She pointed out that they had a few choices for me.
There was a choice of 1000 units of Vitamin D (there was something called D3 but we won’t even go there), there was the 250 units and the 500 units but that comes with calcium built in.
I am already taking 250 units of D in my multivitamin and 59mg of calcium.
The instruction says I can take two tablets of the multivitamin daily – I’m only taking one (my argument is we eat well, I only need one, one has made enough of a difference).
…are you keeping up?
Ok – so I can’t take the 1000 unit tablets. That’s too much.
I don't want to buy the 250 units - that really isn’t enough.
But the 500 units has Calcium.
And I asked ‘are there any dangers associated with taking too much calcium’? And the pharmacist said ‘no, your kidneys’, with a worried look on her face.
…still with me?
Now in the middle of this we’ve had three visits behind the desk to consult with the other pharmacist and check the computer for information about this cocktail of minerals, vitamins & trace elements.
Ok – so I walk back to the wall of vitamins and I pull down the one I’m already taking and arrange about $220 worth of bottles in front of me on the counter and start playing that game where the fraudster shuffles cups around in front of you.
‘Ok,’ I say. ‘I can’t take this one,” slide to the right. ‘But this one and this one,’ slide to the left, ‘aren’t enough?’
Then she has her turn.
‘Ah, but this one,’ slide to the right ‘you should be taking two of, and that is too much to take this one as well,’ slide to the left.
‘But I’m only taking one of these,’ feint right, slide back ‘do I need to take two if the one I’m taking is making me feel better?’
‘But your doctor said…’
...stop. Recoup.
‘Can I take too much Vitamin D?’
‘mmmmh? Maybe you should ring your doctor to be sure.’
'But I won't see my doctor until the 30th and I'd like to sort this out now as they implied that I really need to get some more Vitamin D into me.'
And then I asked again.
‘Is there a level of calcium that is unsafe?’
‘No. But your kidneys’
What?! What is that? Is that a ‘no’ or a ‘yes’?
I tried again. From a slightly different angle.
‘Is there a problem if I take too much calcium?’
‘Oh no, calcium is very good for your teeth and bones and when the baby’s teeth and bones are forming…but you should not take too much because it is bad for your kidneys.’
…now, this is where you stop, and breathe.
Because it’s sure as hell what I had to do at that point.
I actually felt myself step back from the counter in some kind of self-censorship of my thoughts...or in preparation for leaping over the lipgloss testers and jelly beans to throttle the mild-manner chemist.
So, while the pharmacist went back to her computer (I'll just check) I stormed out of the pharmacy with two bottles in my hand (unpaid for mind you & valued at roughly the same amount as my eldest child's annual school fees) to where I’d seen the local GP taking getting her hair tinted in the hairdresser’s next door.
The poor be-foiled, be-smocked medico was confronted by a red-faced virago shaking a giant bottle in each hand like maraccas and shouting: ‘can I take this with this without my baby growing tusks or having a concertina spine?’
Her answer: ‘yup – no problem’.
…oh no. I’m not done yet.
Back through the swinging doors of the pharmacy like a gunslinger I strode, slapping down my two bottles amidst the cornucopia of supplements now littering the counter, along with the $80 of giftware I’d somehow collected by osmosis in my half hour of prolonged negotiations.
Shocked by the final amount, I split it between my card and account, already itching to be back at my desk and put as much distance as possible between me and the pharmacist’s eager but uncertain expression.
I stormed up the street like a madwoman with my arms full of rattling bottles and gift-wrapped boxes (I’m sorry, that won’t fit in our bags) only to discover as I unpacked all the bits and bobs into my bag at the office that I HAD JUST SPENT AN EXTRA $66 TO PURCHASE THE ‘EXAMPLE’ VITAMINS I HAD ALREADY BOUGHT A WEEK AGO!
…I may, just possibly, have been sobbing by this point.
So back went the virago, waving a bottle the size of a teapot in front of her.
‘I don’t want this one!’
And the lovely, sweet, mild-looking pharmacist said to me ‘but I don’t know how to refund an account purchase’.
Which is about where the retail assistant made eye contact with me from the depths of the shelves (her eyes urgent and placating, mine wide and manic), leaned over to the pharmacist and whispered ‘F2’.
…and that was juuuust right.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Change of fortunes...
A month ago my Tarot was full of 'surprises' and 'relationships'.
Today it's full of 'long journeys' and 'coping'.
Bwah! If I have to have a long journey that I'm going to struggle to cope with, can't I please at least have a tall, dark, handsome stranger who brings me an unexpected windfall?
You just can't get good fortune telling these days...facebook really should have factored the 'customers only want to hear good news' preference into their online Tarot permutations.
Today it's full of 'long journeys' and 'coping'.
Bwah! If I have to have a long journey that I'm going to struggle to cope with, can't I please at least have a tall, dark, handsome stranger who brings me an unexpected windfall?
You just can't get good fortune telling these days...facebook really should have factored the 'customers only want to hear good news' preference into their online Tarot permutations.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Above average already...
After my flying trip to the nearest city for my somewhere-around-14-weeks scan to ascertain my birth dates, I was assured by the ultrasound team that everything looked 'normal'.
It wasn't until I was sitting with the local ante-natal (ante-natal? lol - anyone who is pregnant ends up anti natal) nurse that I asked 'yes, but what counts as normal - it's a big curve eh?'.
She said to me "I've been doing this since before you were born Sasha and no one has ever asked me that - let's look it up".
So, according to the approved Country Health SA literature my baby should be 'around' 4cm at 14 weeks.
According to my scans though, at 12 & a bit weeks, the baby was 6.7cm.
Now for someone who had almost 10lb babies this is not reassuring.
I remember with The Boy that they could never decide on my numbers because the baby's size was always bigger than its other development factors would suggest.
Hey, I'm not panicking yet.
Bubbles is not even touching the sides of his/her 'bowl' yet, but my nurse is making bets (according to her own heart rate theory which the locals assure me is pretty spot on) the baby is a boy & I've got to say that the numbers suggest, at least to me, that she's right.
Because, while this baby may be 'normal' it's also 'above average' already (we're just that kind of family really).
And damn it! I'm just not as stretchy as I was a decade ago...
It wasn't until I was sitting with the local ante-natal (ante-natal? lol - anyone who is pregnant ends up anti natal) nurse that I asked 'yes, but what counts as normal - it's a big curve eh?'.
She said to me "I've been doing this since before you were born Sasha and no one has ever asked me that - let's look it up".
So, according to the approved Country Health SA literature my baby should be 'around' 4cm at 14 weeks.
According to my scans though, at 12 & a bit weeks, the baby was 6.7cm.
Now for someone who had almost 10lb babies this is not reassuring.
I remember with The Boy that they could never decide on my numbers because the baby's size was always bigger than its other development factors would suggest.
Hey, I'm not panicking yet.
Bubbles is not even touching the sides of his/her 'bowl' yet, but my nurse is making bets (according to her own heart rate theory which the locals assure me is pretty spot on) the baby is a boy & I've got to say that the numbers suggest, at least to me, that she's right.
Because, while this baby may be 'normal' it's also 'above average' already (we're just that kind of family really).
And damn it! I'm just not as stretchy as I was a decade ago...
Amazing...
I stayed overnight at a friend's birthday party at the weekend and woke up for a walk on a beautiful slice of secluded beach.I was amazed to get within a metre of a wild dolphin, playing in the shallows, we found a sealion lounging on the sand and The Boy even picked up a cowrie shell the size of my hand.
In the middle of all this turmoil, a day like that is a blessing, and a reminder why this is the place I want to raise all my children.
Dawn of the damned...
Do I know what I'm having?
Well, according to the scans it's a little alien with a big head & I'm expecting it to break through my skin & start eating brains any time now...
Well, according to the scans it's a little alien with a big head & I'm expecting it to break through my skin & start eating brains any time now...
Phew!
This week things started to fall in place.
In a flurry of people desperately trying to work out the gossip without me realising they were gossiping (facebook people? really?) finally a friend just walked up to me, laughing her head off, and wrapped me up in a big hug. She's the same person who rang me up, sotto voice, to tell me baby bottles were 50 per cent off at the pharmacy this week.
My dad, whose been having a quiet breakdown of his own after a friend had a mini-stroke in front of him, he learned that my Aunty has advanced breast cancer & his divorcee daughter announced her unplanned pregnancy all in the same week - bought a second-hand cot this week.
So I'll take it as a good sign that he's getting warmed up to the idea of another baby in his life.
My mum is shopping.
It was she who, when my dad had a little schitz fit, told him to "man up and be happy".
The Boy told me "I'm happy if it's a boy, I don't know how I feel if it's a girl" and The Girl just doesn't want to share her room so we'll be spending the maternity leave months setting up the shed as a teenage retreat.
A (harmless but ditzy) friend was full of congratulations and, when she asked about the dad I simply said he wouldn't be around, she asked me outright "he's not married or anything is he?" which was a relief in that I'm sure that's what people are discussing but wouldn't dare mention in my hearing.
I think my splurt of laughter may have been more convincing than my actual denial.
Turns out we still had a high chair & car seat that I put aside for my brother's breeding years.
I've got a baby bath, a few clothes, started buying nappies, bottles & a nappy bag now.
I've got a lead on a cheap but reliable car and just need a sturdy pram and a rocker/feeder chair.
Fingers crossed my boss will take me on part-time afterwards, but I definitely won't be coming back to work this much. I've already turned down two promotions this quarter because I decided I couldn't move the kids or take on more responsiblity - turns out those were EXACTLY the right decisions to make.
I'm glad I made them before the baby came along too, so I'll always know I chose to stay here no matter what.
The kids are happy - they think it'll mean they'll have more time with me. Ha ha - little do they know ;)
Mr Right & I are still friends. It's kind of sad to take that step backwards again but all the reasons I like him are the reasons he knows better than to take on a pregnant woman with two almost-teen kids.
I guess I'd be suspicious of anyone desperate enough to think my package would be a good deal - but we are you know.
And I'm starting to feel happy about the future again now that the shock is (slowly) wearing off.
It's important that I'm happy before this baby comes along - s/he deserves all the love in the world and I refuse to do it any other way.
In a flurry of people desperately trying to work out the gossip without me realising they were gossiping (facebook people? really?) finally a friend just walked up to me, laughing her head off, and wrapped me up in a big hug. She's the same person who rang me up, sotto voice, to tell me baby bottles were 50 per cent off at the pharmacy this week.
My dad, whose been having a quiet breakdown of his own after a friend had a mini-stroke in front of him, he learned that my Aunty has advanced breast cancer & his divorcee daughter announced her unplanned pregnancy all in the same week - bought a second-hand cot this week.
So I'll take it as a good sign that he's getting warmed up to the idea of another baby in his life.
My mum is shopping.
It was she who, when my dad had a little schitz fit, told him to "man up and be happy".
The Boy told me "I'm happy if it's a boy, I don't know how I feel if it's a girl" and The Girl just doesn't want to share her room so we'll be spending the maternity leave months setting up the shed as a teenage retreat.
A (harmless but ditzy) friend was full of congratulations and, when she asked about the dad I simply said he wouldn't be around, she asked me outright "he's not married or anything is he?" which was a relief in that I'm sure that's what people are discussing but wouldn't dare mention in my hearing.
I think my splurt of laughter may have been more convincing than my actual denial.
Turns out we still had a high chair & car seat that I put aside for my brother's breeding years.
I've got a baby bath, a few clothes, started buying nappies, bottles & a nappy bag now.
I've got a lead on a cheap but reliable car and just need a sturdy pram and a rocker/feeder chair.
Fingers crossed my boss will take me on part-time afterwards, but I definitely won't be coming back to work this much. I've already turned down two promotions this quarter because I decided I couldn't move the kids or take on more responsiblity - turns out those were EXACTLY the right decisions to make.
I'm glad I made them before the baby came along too, so I'll always know I chose to stay here no matter what.
The kids are happy - they think it'll mean they'll have more time with me. Ha ha - little do they know ;)
Mr Right & I are still friends. It's kind of sad to take that step backwards again but all the reasons I like him are the reasons he knows better than to take on a pregnant woman with two almost-teen kids.
I guess I'd be suspicious of anyone desperate enough to think my package would be a good deal - but we are you know.
And I'm starting to feel happy about the future again now that the shock is (slowly) wearing off.
It's important that I'm happy before this baby comes along - s/he deserves all the love in the world and I refuse to do it any other way.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Sad...
BUB is having a breakdown.
So far he's considered abortion, adoption, abandonment, suicide, probably homicide, denial, unemployment & self-exile to a non-extradition country.
I tried, I tried to be patient, I tried to understand that he's as panicked as I am but when he started talking about the deep depression he had been plunged into I kind of lost my last thread of sympathy.
I believe my reply was something along the lines of 'hey, you were holding the gun when the trigger went off and now you've left me to carry the bullet - you're talking about your back pocket while I'm developing a hunchfront'.
I hope he gets it together. I hope it all works out one day and this baby doesn't have to fight to know his/her own family, but right now I'm too busy building arms & legs to deal with a grown man having a sook about maintenance & gossip.
I learnt my lesson the first time - better a happy, stable family with one less person in the mix than a mixed up angry environment where everyone bears the bullshit.
So Bubbles - right now, it's just you, me, your big sister, your big brother, your Nanna & your Grumpy, a loving Aunty & a cheeky Uncle, two evil cats (you can't play with them right way, ok?) and a giant huskie dog that I'm training to pull a sandboard.
When you look at it that way - I guess you're gonna be ok.
That's a lot of people to love, & to love you back.
So far he's considered abortion, adoption, abandonment, suicide, probably homicide, denial, unemployment & self-exile to a non-extradition country.
I tried, I tried to be patient, I tried to understand that he's as panicked as I am but when he started talking about the deep depression he had been plunged into I kind of lost my last thread of sympathy.
I believe my reply was something along the lines of 'hey, you were holding the gun when the trigger went off and now you've left me to carry the bullet - you're talking about your back pocket while I'm developing a hunchfront'.
I hope he gets it together. I hope it all works out one day and this baby doesn't have to fight to know his/her own family, but right now I'm too busy building arms & legs to deal with a grown man having a sook about maintenance & gossip.
I learnt my lesson the first time - better a happy, stable family with one less person in the mix than a mixed up angry environment where everyone bears the bullshit.
So Bubbles - right now, it's just you, me, your big sister, your big brother, your Nanna & your Grumpy, a loving Aunty & a cheeky Uncle, two evil cats (you can't play with them right way, ok?) and a giant huskie dog that I'm training to pull a sandboard.
When you look at it that way - I guess you're gonna be ok.
That's a lot of people to love, & to love you back.
Schadenfreude
God I am over the gossip.
If I've kept my private life private this long, you think people would get the hint.
The day the kids were allowed to tell their friends, the day I told my boss, the same day they were discussing potential fathers at the pub and two days later someone stood up at the local church and asked 200 people to pray for me.
Apparently the gasp that swept through the congregation was like the holy breath of God, blowing everyone before it.
How come they didn't want to pray for me when I was just a sinning aetheist divorcee?
Maybe if they'd done it then I wouldn't be shifting priorities so suddenly now?
If I've kept my private life private this long, you think people would get the hint.
The day the kids were allowed to tell their friends, the day I told my boss, the same day they were discussing potential fathers at the pub and two days later someone stood up at the local church and asked 200 people to pray for me.
Apparently the gasp that swept through the congregation was like the holy breath of God, blowing everyone before it.
How come they didn't want to pray for me when I was just a sinning aetheist divorcee?
Maybe if they'd done it then I wouldn't be shifting priorities so suddenly now?
Earth mother
Why am I so tired?
I don't remember being so tired?
According to my (slightly rose-tinted) memories I was an earth goddess last time I was pregnant a whole decade ago.
This time, I just feel like mud.
I don't remember being so tired?
According to my (slightly rose-tinted) memories I was an earth goddess last time I was pregnant a whole decade ago.
This time, I just feel like mud.
Surprise!
Ok - the world has turned upside down in a comedy of errors I was never prepared for.
At the same time that I met someone special, I was still knocking boots occasionally with BUB.
About the time Mr Right & I decided we should do something serious about our feelings & shed the baggage, well, turns out BUB & I might have had one 'one last time' one time too many.
I'm pregnant.
More than that though. I'm 14 weeks pregnant.
Let me explain. I'm not one of those Amish tweenies who doesn't know how it all works.
It's just, well, I don't have normal periods & I've been seriously sick in the past 'down there' so when the periods stopped but the two pregnancy tests came back negative (two! count 'em two!) and after all, we used condoms, I just assumed the worst.
And the worst meant seeing a doctor, which is difficult to organise when your GP is muslim & won't touch anything below the tonsils but you can't drive the hour & a half to an alternative medical centre because you work six days a week and you have two kids to pick up after school for basketball/cricket/scouts/dance/insert activity here.
Then, still no periods, and I started to bruise for no reason. And I was teary & tired and obviously something was wrong so I took the afternoon off & made the drive...but then the GP I was scheduled to see got called into surgery and no one else was available.
So two weeks later I finally get in to see a GP & she's only booked me in for the normal appointment but yes, with my history, it does sound like what I'm expecting but we'll do all the tests just to be sure.
And so, the next day, half way between a meeting with grain cooperative shareholders and the local mining alliance I get a phone call from the medical receptionist who has news that I need to know but she really doesn't want to have to tell me but the GP is already on holidays and...WHAM!
I mean, I thought I was dying. Seriously dying. I'd sorted out my will & let my parents know who would raise my kids & that I wanted to be an organ donor but this?
Jeez, I was prepared for bad news - but I don't even know what kind of news this is?
I found myself crying in a running car on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere - breaking up with the bloke I was half in love with over the phone and breaking the news to the less-than-impressed father on a mobile phone.
I'm 35. I'm having a baby on my own. I'm absolutely terrified.
At the same time that I met someone special, I was still knocking boots occasionally with BUB.
About the time Mr Right & I decided we should do something serious about our feelings & shed the baggage, well, turns out BUB & I might have had one 'one last time' one time too many.
I'm pregnant.
More than that though. I'm 14 weeks pregnant.
Let me explain. I'm not one of those Amish tweenies who doesn't know how it all works.
It's just, well, I don't have normal periods & I've been seriously sick in the past 'down there' so when the periods stopped but the two pregnancy tests came back negative (two! count 'em two!) and after all, we used condoms, I just assumed the worst.
And the worst meant seeing a doctor, which is difficult to organise when your GP is muslim & won't touch anything below the tonsils but you can't drive the hour & a half to an alternative medical centre because you work six days a week and you have two kids to pick up after school for basketball/cricket/scouts/dance/insert activity here.
Then, still no periods, and I started to bruise for no reason. And I was teary & tired and obviously something was wrong so I took the afternoon off & made the drive...but then the GP I was scheduled to see got called into surgery and no one else was available.
So two weeks later I finally get in to see a GP & she's only booked me in for the normal appointment but yes, with my history, it does sound like what I'm expecting but we'll do all the tests just to be sure.
And so, the next day, half way between a meeting with grain cooperative shareholders and the local mining alliance I get a phone call from the medical receptionist who has news that I need to know but she really doesn't want to have to tell me but the GP is already on holidays and...WHAM!
I mean, I thought I was dying. Seriously dying. I'd sorted out my will & let my parents know who would raise my kids & that I wanted to be an organ donor but this?
Jeez, I was prepared for bad news - but I don't even know what kind of news this is?
I found myself crying in a running car on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere - breaking up with the bloke I was half in love with over the phone and breaking the news to the less-than-impressed father on a mobile phone.
I'm 35. I'm having a baby on my own. I'm absolutely terrified.
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