It’s been a long 10 days since I last posted. A busy 10 days. In which I finished work and we moved house and I waited for over a week for BT to reconnect the internet. But, at last, we are reconnected and I can reconnect with you.
We are moved in. Me and Marto and the cat and Pip and a hundred million more possessions than can fit in what feels like a teeny tiny shoebox in North London but in reality is a quite nice two bedroom flat. It’s just after a cottage with a bathroom with both a roll top bath, a free standing shower, an enormous airing cupboard and a loft, a London flat feels a bit cramped. But, with the help of a procession of workmen to sort out one problem after another, we are getting sorted.
I went to the new hospital three times last week. Once for a booking appointment, which took several hours and they re-did every test that they did in Somerset, including my blood group, because obviously that could have changed. Pip still has a good heartbeat, is head-down and they seemed pretty happy with our progress. I returned two days later for a scan. Not because I needed one but because they wanted to carry out their own one to verify the correctness of the 20 week one in Somerset. Don’t you love how these NHS Trusts have so little respect for each other’s work that they like wasting resources. The sonographer was charming and the room was frankly huge in comparison to the cell like room in Taunton where I had the first two scans. I was even called using a buzzing device – the same ones that the have in Marks and Spencers cafes to indicate when your teacakes are toasted.
The sonographer measured Pip and revealed that Pip’s measurements are all in the 95th percentile and estimated his weight at 2.3kg at 33 weeks. His abdominal circumference however was just a bit bigger and we were immediately referred to the midwife for suspected gestational diabetes testing. And so, Pip and I returned to the hospital the next morning for some glucose tolerance testing – which was deemed the next day to be normal. However, we have still been referred to the consultant obstetrician for no explained reason, leading me to surmise that either Pip is a big baby, or they are concerned about some as yet un-revealed problem. That the appointment is not for a week’s time leads me to suspect it’s probably the former.
And in the meantime, Pip continues to kick frantically and uncomfortably but reassuringly frequently and the pet herd of elephants that we have stashed in the flat above us are settling in nicely by listening to their very loud TV at every given opportunity but particularly very early in the morning, even on Sundays when 6.30am seems to suit them very well. The cat has taken to attempting to pay for her breakfasts by getting up on the bedside table and pushing coins off onto the floor at 7am and the helpful lack of blinds or curtains or any ability to hang curtains or blinds (and a contract clause stating we must not affix anything to the walls without express written permission) means that my three hourly waking is getting me nicely trained for birth. I am just plotting where best to keep Pip’s basket and which feeding routine will ensure crying about 40 minutes before the elephants like to wake up…