She checked Erin's blood pressure then proceeded by taking most of it out of her right arm for three tubes full to be sent for a slew of tests. These, however, don't include whether s/he will get a first from St Johns College, Oxford; will become the 2032 Olympic 100m gold medallist, get a tattoo behind her parents' back, or if she'll have her father's eyebrows.
Shame.
Erin then produced a full vial of urine and plonked it on the midwife's table - don't worry, she was asked for this. More tests.
After this, we were given a Pregnancy Medical Records Book. This will list all the history of our pregnancy. Erin asked if she could personalise it with stickers, doodles and collages. The midwife then looked at her and said: 'You can. But this will be kept on NHS records for the next 25 years.' Erin then realised it wasn't a scrapbook, even though there is an envelope inside the front cover for baby keepsakes.
The book's first few pages are full of the usual name, age and job questions then it goes on to all the family medical history questions. We seemed to do well at these and ended up with the comment, Low Risk Pregnancy. I think that's at least a B+. (Erin's just read this and complained about my low expectations. She thinks it should be and A. Maybe this is a sign of things to come for our child's first report card.)
The midwife asked if we had any questions. We Had. A whole list. Erin started on hers, then I on mine. We asked about flying, cycling, painkillers, sore tail bones, scans, appointments, classes, yoga, free stuff and dentists. Finally we asked if we had forgotten anything and what most people worry about. She then rolled her eyes and said that a lot of parents are over anxious and worry about things that don't matter at this stage. She gave us a knowing look then said we'd be fine.
We left smiling.
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