It’s 4am and I’ve been awake an hour. My Fitbit will make interesting reading later. Why can I not sleep when I’m so bloody exhausted?! I’ve already been downstairs and had a couple of spoons of ice cream… What the hell is that all about? I don’t particularly like ice cream. Hadn’t helped though, I’m still awake listening to the gentle breathing of DS beside me blissfully unaware of his mother’s insomnolence. Why on a day I have a long drive? Gah.

Going home today and dreading it. Dreading the drive, dreading leaving my friend, dreading leaving my hometown. I feel so at peace here, a sense of belonging which I love. Some people hate the claustrophobia a small town can bring, I love it. I love that it takes me half an hour to get a paper because there are still people I know in the high street who stop and enquire about your current standing. I have help with DS which, especially at the moment, is an absolute godsend. I have adult conversation and proper, full on belly laughs. I’m dreading returning to the faustiness of a damp flat, the isolation, the mundane, but then I suppose that’s life. Now to return to normality. Oh, and the booking appointment at the midwife. Praying the weather is good.

Midwife appointment went ok, she was fairly good though did pluck a figure of 8 miscarriages out of the air despite having talked at length about the 4 I actually had. She is a total nut. Usual stuff covered; weight, height, bloods taken (as I’m B negative and my anti-D will have to come from a different hospital to the one I’ll be attending), CO2 monitored which is new, worryingly it was 6 and considering I don’t smoke am a little perturbed my car is faulty. Due to my age (43) and my fabulous status of ‘geriatric mum’ she told me that if have more growth scans and that they won’t let me go too far my due date (all of which I knew as I was 40 when I had my DS). Both I and DS came out covered in plasters as DS wanted to match me… Hilarity ensued.

Anyway scan booked for the 13th October so now starts the anxious wait as we enter the danger weeks of when I lost before.

I’m clinging on to the fact my tender boobs and general feeling of feeling completely shitty mean it’s progressing ok at present so fingers crossed.

Done nothing but argue with partner about new house since returning home, asked what my reservations were so I said, also stated that positives far outweighed negatives but still my misgivings were enough to offend him as if he is building the bloody thing himself. Needless to say my exhaustion, nausea and general mardiness hasn’t helped defuse the situation. 

Ho well, soon be bedtime. 

227 days to go


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