Monday, 26 September 2016

35 Week Scan

So I went for a 35 week scan yesterday. A routine thing as I'm high risk due to my first child being underweight and a bunch of other problems in my pregnancy.

Expecting the usual "yes everything is ok blah blah blah" I was quite shocked to hear that my waters surrounding the baby have just decided to disappear. There has been no gushing, no trickling sensations. I've observed a few 'damp patches' but doesn't every woman in pregnancy? 

I sat waiting for the registrar to come and talk to me and literally shit a brick when she told me she was going to examine me and if I was showing signs of leaking then she would admit me to have the baby delivered immediately. 

And then the universe remembered this was me.

And there was no way that such a drama could go down without me also having to suffer deep humiliation and hilarity at the same time.

I lay on the bed, knickers down, with a blanket over my ghost white legs to protect my dignity. Cursing myself for ever writing A Hairy Situation , as ever since my partner has refused to assist me down there and I am now sporting...well, I don't know what I'm sporting as it's impossible to see, but I doubt it's pleasant. 

As I lay there, panicking about the state of my vagina I picked up a horrific whiff in the air.

My feet!

It was a hot day. I was wearing pumps with no socks and had walked the school run that morning. Those pumps now sat neatly at the side of the bed, letting off the most offensive smell known to man.

"Erm...I'm really sorry but I've had to take my shoes off and my feet really smell!"

I had to warn them! And when I say 'them' I mean the registrar, the nursing assistant who was helping her, and some random woman who had entered the room, failed to introduce herself, but had decided to stick around and give me sympathetic smiles. 

They all glanced in my direction but none of them seemed to be perturbed by the foot confession. They were too busy muttering and whispering amongst themselves. 

"This is why we usually send them to MAU"

"Do you have one on your phone?"

I lay there, craning my neck to see what the commotion was about. 

It appeared that they had the equipment to perform the examination, but the light was too bright. They were in need of a small torch. And of course that small torch was going to come in the form of the nursing assistants iPhone! 

I found it hard to lie there, legs akimbo as a nursing assistant held an iPhone in between my legs and the registrar prodded and poked me. 

"Just make sure your finger doesn't slip and you don't take a picture by accident!" I shouted. 

"I don't think my vagina is in a selfie mood today"

God bless the NHS! 

Luckily there were no signs of leaking at the time (except for everybody's eyes from the stench of my feet) and I was booked in for a scan the following week to monitor the situation and to look at possible induction.

This is particularly the reason why when the health visitor asked if "Mum had a birth plan in place" Mum stated that no she didn't. 

I have a perfect birth in my head. A natural birth (ideally in water) on the midwife led unit with no pain relief. From the offset its been clear that the likelihood of that happening is slim. Therefore I'll skip the birth plan and take my labour the way it comes. 

On a serious note, because I've found myself a bit pissy when discussing my current situation with people and they've felt the need to have an opinion; some women will get their perfect birth. It will go exactly as planned. Some won't. And that's fine too. People seem to have an opinion on your birth the way they will have an opinion on every other fucking thing you do as a parent. From feeding, to sleeping, to toilet training. But it's MY birth. I own it. And in the end, what will happen will happen. 

1 comment:

  1. Oh you poor thing. I had to laugh at the feet though :) it's much better being pragmatic about birth. I think it stops a lot of disappointment.