Ho Ho Fucking Ho

Pregnancy rage combined with Christmas doesn’t make for a happy me.

 

Apparently I’m supposed to travel for two hours. On a bus, because there’s no way I’d ask D to leave his family at Christmastime. To go back to the town I’ve just come home from for Christmas. To go to the hospital. To go to an appointment I tried to cancel a week ago. Because they want to give me a new prescription for something I already have plenty of, when a little bit of pushing revealed that actually it can be sent to my doctors for me to pick up next week. And the appointment isn’t really urgent at all. They want to take my blood pressure. But apparently it “really would be best for everyone if you came in on the 24th”. Best for everyone except me, and I’m fairly sure unborn babies don’t respond well to stress either. But apparently this “urgent” appointment can quite easily be rescheduled to the 21st January, actually, so maybe it’s not so urgent. Oh and then I get “you missed your appointment on the 11th November too”, along with the complimentary tutting and no doubt exasperated sigh that makes me feel like I’m back in school, not an adult woman about to have a child of her own. Yes, I missed that one because I had a university assessment. However, I called up two weeks before and said “Hello, I have a university assessment, can I reschedule?”. I then attended the rescheduled appointment a week later, but no, of course there’s no record of that. That would be too fucking easy and stress-free, wouldn’t it?

And apparently I’m a bad person for not going, because the baby is supposed to come first. I AM PUTTING THE BABY FIRST. If I’m stuck in a house, alone, over Christmas, and something goes wrong, I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to get to the hospital. And then D is two hours away if I need him. I’ll be upset and miserable and stressed, and everything I’ve read is `telling me not to get stressed, so why am I a bad person for wanting to keep stress levels down? It’s a routine fucking appointment, not “can you come in urgently and see us it’s an emergency”. If it was the latter I wouldn’t hesitate, but forgive me for not giving up Christmas, and not putting my baby at risk, by travelling two hours there and two hours back on roads that are likely to close any minute now and will be quite treacherous and icy with fallen trees just to add the cherry on top – so that I can go to a ten minute routine appointment where they’ll ask how I am, take my blood pressure, make me pee in a cup for them and then tra la la off you go see you next time.

IT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN, AND I AM NOT A BAD PERSON/UNFIT MOTHER FOR SAYING THAT.

Am I?

 

I think it’s important to add that I don’t blame the nurses and doctors etc themselves – I think it’s an NHS thing more than anything, and while I usually love the NHS and will be the first to stick up for it, and don’t get me wrong I’m glad it’s there, I wish they weren’t so bloody patronising with it. I don’t care if it’s an age thing, a first-time-mother thing or just a general pregnancy thing but why are people allowed to treat us like schoolchildren for having a life that gets in the way of non-urgent appointments? I gave them plenty of notice that I needed to reschedule; the fact that I didn’t get a call back until the day before the appointment is not my fault! It’s not giving me the best of feelings in anticipation of giving birth at that hospital. Honestly if it was an option, I’d say fuck everyone and give birth on my own at home with D, but I don’t know the first thing about giving birth and I think I need the help. I’m not sure there’s any need to be patronising with it though. (That said, after talking to my mum this weekend, if they talk down to me during the actual birth both mum and D will make sure it doesn’t happen again, which is a bit reassuring). I know they’re doing a tough job, much tougher than I could imagine, and I know they don’t get the option of not working on Christmas Eve, but there’s a difference between rescheduling because I can’t be bothered/want to enjoy Christmas eve, and rescheduling because trying to get to the hospital would put mine and the baby’s lives at risk.

But people outside the situation? Hell naw. I’m venting, I’m ranting, I’ve explained it’s non-urgent and would be a risk to my life to try and travel up there. But apparently I should put the baby first, and there must be a good reason for it somewhere. No. Because I’ve just told you there isn’t. I’ve told you their reasons for trying to get me to come in, I’ve told you the travel situation. IT. ISN’T. POSSIBLE.

 

At this rate, the SB’s first words will be “fucking hell”, because it’s all I seem to say around him/her lately. I’m really doing a great job of endearing myself as a good future mother, aren’t I?

 

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