My Not Pregnancy – Part 4

I had a scan this week.

Just to confirm a viable pregnancy and all those things.

Apparently my baby should be the size of a raspberry right now, but judging by my stomach it’s surely the size of a melon…maybe that’s just the pies and sausage rolls talking.

It took a ridiculous amount of time to find a place to get my scan, which is surprising considering I am a health professional. I honestly imagined that you just rocked up to the radiology department at the hospital, patted your stomach as the universal sign of cooking a bun in the oven and they whip you through – free of charge. But no, and it’s not just because of my own sheer incompetence +/- a pinch of ignorance but because it turns out when you get pregnant, you literally have do everything yourself.

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I acknowledge there’s not a literal bun in my oven, but here’s a picture of a literal bun in an oven
They make t-shirts here:

Have I been missing some huge chunk of how pregnancy is supposed to work in the three long weeks since I first saw those two lines on a stick? Maybe it’s because I don’t have a midwife yet. Maybe that’s the role of the midwife, they just organise everything for you whilst you sit there staring at your belly, eating those pies and sausage rolls (mainly so you don’t feel like vomiting up your guts, which is actually worse than vomiting because technically you feel better once you do actually vomit), and thinking how wonderfully organised everything is.

Well, whoppee for me, I don’t have a midwife as yet. Seems pointless in the first trimester when I could miscarry and then we awkwardly pat each other on the back, say “next time champ”, part ways and go back to our day jobs. I assume that’s how it would go anyway.

I finally managed to work out the system and booked myself in for my first session (free might I add – score!) I was pretty nervous. In my head it still wasn’t real. There might actually be nothing there, right?  I could have these massively swollen breasts and this on-going nausea just for fun. It could be a hormonal imbalance … not related to pregnancy or something … I mean, who really knows?

I organised the scan so that my partner could attend after work. No way I was going without him. Hello, this was a team effort and teams carry each other to the finish line!

And. . .oh crap there’s a raspberry in my uterus shaped like a foetus.

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It think I’d been holding my breath up until this point, that’s what it felt like anyway. Suddenly, it all whooshed out of me with the confirmation that my “hormonal imbalance” was indeed pregnancy related. I wanted to cry but the sonographer was there and I’m having a baby not, I am a baby so I pulled it together without shedding any tears. Looked at my other half like holy crap. Snapped a photo cause the ones they print are expensive, and we’re not about that life.

But man. . . that heart beat got me good.

I guess this is real then

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