Appointments Galore

On Thursday I had my 28-week check up with the Community Midwife at my GP surgery. As usual, the clinic was running late and I was over half an hour late getting in for my appointment. For the first time, there was a Student Midwife present and my Midwife asked if it was OK for the Student to do all of my checks. Being a Student Nurse myself, I know how important it is to gain experience, so of course I said that was fine. While the student took my BP, I told the Midwife how crappy I was feeling, mainly because of the situation at university regarding lack of support in getting my maternity leave sorted. My anxiety levels are through the roof and, depsite getting lots of rest, I'm tired all the time. Scarily, my BP was 150/100, but I was feeling very tense so they decided to give me a chance to relax and would recheck it before I left.

The Student checked my abdomen, but had to ask the Midwife for help as she couldn't decide if she'd found Baby T's head or his bum! It turned out to be his head and it seems he is still in the breech position that he was in at the weekend. The Student found the heartbeat straightaway and I was surprised at how clear it was. Without even looking up from her desk, the Midwife said the heartbeat sounded great, which, as usual, was a relief to hear. Apparently I'm measuring slightly big for my dates, but the Midwife wasn't worried and doesn't think I'm going to have a large baby. That was music to my ears!

Because of some shocking swelling in my legs and a couple of other symptoms, the Midwife decided to check my urine to make sure that I don't have pre-eclampsia. After giving me an incredibly small sample pot, that I'm sure would have been more useful for collecting pixie pee, I was told to go off and wee. Weeing was not a problem; my bladder has been reduced to the size of a thimble in recent weeks, so the need to wee is pretty much constant. Weeing into the pot, however, was nigh on impossible and I ended up pissing all over my hands. Ah, the joys of pregnancy. Still, I managed to get enough into the pot to warrant a decent sample and set about vigorously scrubbing my hands before my return to the Midwife.

After all that, my urine tested negative for protein. As an extra bonus, my BP had returned to normal and I was given the all clear. I was made to promise that I would look after myself and to call the Midwife if I felt that I needed any extra support.

The next morning I had an appointment with my cohort leader at university to discuss my maternity leave. She was incredibly nice to me and was sympathetic to my situation. She also expressed disbelief that I'd even been on sick leave as I looked so tired. She assured me that everything was in hand and that as long as I kept my sick notes up to date I wouldn't lose any bursary and that my maternity leave will start 4 weeks before my due date. I signed the necessary paperwork and was told that the university would take care of everything else. I remain apprehensive about this as the university has a track record of not knowing its arse from its elbow. My friend Keely was mistakenly kicked off the course earlier this year which caused her quite a bit of distress, so I won't be entirely surprised if something goes wrong for me. Assuming all goes well, that's it for me and university until March 2008 when I'll be starting my 2nd year again (and all my friends will be 6 months away from qualifying!). I did have the option to go back in September, but by then Baby T will only be 4 months old and I felt that was far too soon to be putting him in daycare. I don't mind admitting that I'm a bit sad about taking a year out as I really love nursing, but I'm sure bringing Baby T into the world will more than make up for this.

Later that day I had to attend Liverpool Women's Hospital to have an injection of Anti-D, due to me having Rhesus negative blood. Despite having to make my own way there on the bus, I arrived in good time for my appointment and was pleased to see that the waiting area wasn't too busy. I plonked myself down next to a TV which was playing some sort of campaign DVD, but as it was all in a foreign language I didn't have a clue what it was about. At first. If I'd known I was going to be waiting there long enough to hear how dreadful domestic violence is, in every language used in the Northern Hemisphere, I probably would have sat elsewhere.

My appointment was at 3pm, but as time dragged on I began wishing I'd got there late. Or at least brought a book to read. I even thought they may have forgotten about me. It was after 4pm by the time my name was called so I was quite alarmed when the Midwife told me that it wasn't actually her who was running the clinic, but that she'd just agreed to take a couple of patients to speed things up a bit. If that was their idea of speeding things up, I'd hate to be there when they're really pressed for time. She took a blood sample to test for antibodies and anaemia and then got the injection ready.

Now, I'm OK when it comes to needles. I don't mind the sight of sharp things coming toward me. However, in this case even I was a bit apprehensive. I've given injections before and never have I seen such a large dose in a syringe. There was a lot of liquid in that syringe and all of it had to go into my arm. I had the feeling it was going to hurt. I was right. I felt every last drop being forced into my muscle and immediately began to worry about coming back for my next dose. So I was relieved to hear that this would be the only such injection I would need due a recent change in the way the medication is given. Hurrah! No more nasty Anti-D for me until after the birth, by which point I'm sure I won't give a toss what they're injecting me with.

I was due to meet some friends for a drink at around 5:30pm so I hopped on a bus to town and wandered about for a while. When my pregnant legs had had enough I grabbed a magazine and holed up in Starbucks for an hour before heading to the pub. There were quite a few people there and it was nice to have a chat and to just be somewhere other than languishing in the house. Unfortunately, the more drunk everybody got, the less energy I had to be bothered with them and by 8:30pm languishing in the house was starting to look mighty appealing. By 9pm, that's exactly what I was doing.

All the excitement of the past couple of days has left me feeling pretty much spent (when you're pregnant, it doesn't take much!), so I'm under strict instructions from Graeme to get plenty of rest today. He's busy laying the floor in the living room (with a nail gun - *shudder*) and I plan on doing as little as possible. I'm going to lap up this time while I can, because in a few months my world is going to be turned upside down and I'll probably have forgotten what rest is!

Lisa xxx