Sarah hasnt found the sex of her baby out - did you?
Last week I had my 20 week scan. Work said I had to take the full afternoon off as this scan took a little longer. Another colleague told me that it was very intense and not as enjoyable so although I was really looking forward to it I wasn't sure what to expect.
I decided to go on my own to this one, it was by this point the 5th scan I'd had and I felt great so I wasn't worried. I didn't need to be, everything was absolutely fine, everything is growing just as it should be. I went into the room with the lovely women and they prodded around on my tummy and full bladder and took lots of measurements and a couple of pictures and I tried to make conversation to distract from the fact that I had my jeans and pants pulled part way down and constantly tried to rearrange the delightful blue paper they use to cover you up. I don't know why I was being so modest as they see everything all the time and are much more interested in what's floating around inside me rather than my lady parts, but I was, I was very uncomfortable. I chatted away out of nervousness all the way through, cracking really bad jokes and comparing the baby to the dog (I must stop doing that) while my brain told me to just shut up and just let them get on with their work. I think I may have also pulled a muscle in my neck from trying to twist it so awkwardly so I could see the screen.
I did not find out the sex of the baby. Everyone asks if you're going to and most people expect that you will, or most people expect that I will. I don't generally come across as a sentimental person and I can be quite matter of fact (polite way of saying rude really) so I think that everyone thought I'd just find out as it’s not a big deal, and the sex of my baby is really not a big deal for anyone else, but to me it's a massive deal.
Every year when I was growing up I looked for my Christmas presents, and I would find them and then there's no surprise on the day and it's always disappointing. Then as you get older you plan ahead a lot, you plan your holidays and your house moves, you have to let people know in advance if you want a night out so people can get babysitters. I've never had a long term relationship so no one to plan a surprise birthday party or spring a proposal on me, no one to suddenly get down on one knee or shock me with a weekend away, or a bunch of flowers. Now that I'm pregnant, and dumped, it's not likely I'll get those things in the future so it doesn't look like there's that many good surprises left so this one I'm going to stretch out to the very last minute. Till the moment that baby is squeezed out and placed on me and they'll tell me "It's A Girl".
That's my official reason for not finding out, the unofficial reason is that it may be a boy and I rather not know that till I've got him in my arms.
So that's it now, I don't have any more scans left. I don't get to see my little baby now until it's here and it's a shame because I really enjoy going for them. I get so excited. It's lots of fun, not only do you get to see your little sprog but you get to be very nosey with the other people that are there and I'm very nosey. In Lincoln the maternity part is separate to the rest of the hospital. It's a whole different building away from A&E and old people and illness, that doesn't mean that bad things don't happen there, I'm sure they do but on the whole it’s a happy building so it's a nice place to be. I took my tapestry along with me this time and sat and watched all the couples and families while I sewed away. There was a young girl behind me who was with her mother. Her mum must have been younger than me and she happily snogged her boyfriend while her daughter sat there holding hands with her partner who was swearing and complaining about how long they had to wait. I hate to admit that I judged them a bit, she was so young and they were very loud, especially with all the swearing and kissing noises, but then I realised that she had her partner with her. This young lad that was f'ing and jeffing all over the waiting room was only doing it because he was anxious and nervous and worried for her and didn't know how else to show it. He hadn't walked away at the first hurdle saying it was a bad decision so he wasn't having a part of it. He was holding her hand and supporting her and looking forward to the new life they'd created. And if her mum had taken her tongue out of her boyfriends mouth long enough, I'm sure she would have been very supportive too! So I gave myself a ticking off for being a snob and actually felt a bit jealous of her. She actually had the support of her partner and I wondered how reassuring that must be. I thought she's probably looking at me thinking "look at that old spinster, bent over her sewing, all on her own having a baby when she’s old enough to be a Grandma" - but she probably didn’t as she probably isn’t as mean as me. Then the pregnant girl got up to go for a cigarette and I went back to my cross stitch.
I'm back at the hospital again in a few weeks for a glucose test which takes four hours apparently, four hours of sitting in the waiting room, listening into other peoples conversations. I can't wait. Imagine how much sewing I can get done!