So far, so good


Lola is now weighing in at 1.140kg, more than a standard bag of flour.

We saw her today, bobbing around in there and I have to say she’s behaving very well so far. Head pointed in the right direction (phew), no deadly jabs to the ribcage (yet), and doc says she’s looking good. He even showed us an eight-week ultrasound pic of his own son, who is now 9, which I took as a sign of confidence.

We also went to see the hospital coordinator who liaises with international insurance clients, and she has promised to get pre-authorisation for the birth locked in over the next week or so, just in case there are any early surprises. This is a huge relief because bureaucracy here can be an absolute bitch. Trying to get an iphone out of the phone company ended in tears a few weeks back after they gave me a contract on Monday, rescinded it on Tuesday, offered it to me again on Wednesday, delivered the phone on Friday but then wouldn’t leave the phone with me because I only had two passports, various bills and the apartment lease to prove who I was.

I can’t imagine turning up at the clinic here early without having some kind of written authorisation to actually give birth – they’d probably put us out on the street.

We’re signing up for pre-natal classes this week, even though Dr E said he’s not entirely sure they’re necessary. They help calm anxieties more than anything, he says. I’m down with that.

I was feeling pretty anxious yesterday when it dawned on me that the first few months with Lola might actually be quite isolating. You see Rufus has always been around a lot – he used to work from home, and so do I, so we saw each other all the time. Since the start of the new year, he’s been in a new job, so he’s working from 8-8 most days, or even later, and I’ve been missing him. A LOT. He’s calling me “the limpet” because the minute he comes home I attach myself to his side. Last night the poor man had to eat his spaghetti around me because I dropped myself in his lap and wouldn’t leave.

The thing is, this new job of his is great news – the best – and the timing really couldn’t be better. With my own career going down the tubes thanks to the boss from hell, we needed more cash and more stability, and Rufus is delivering it.

But I realised yesterday that all those soft-focus dreams I had of us enjoying her first few months together need some adjusting. Rufus will be gone most of the day, every day, so it’ll be Lola and me. And my parents, God love them. My mother insisted on coming out to be here for the birth, and I tried to tell her she was crazy because the weather is awful at that time of year and if she waited a few months the babe would have more personality and the sun would be out.

Now I see I was the crazy one… I am really going to need my mum.

 

 

 

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