Is it me or does this pregnancy seem to be flying by? Perhaps it is that I am ever-busy with the normal everyday life of living and working, or maybe it’s one of those things that signifies me getting older?
At 38-years-old I am officially classed as an ‘older mum’. Positively ancient, by pregnancy standards, I believe. Sometimes the non-pregnant bits of me think the medics might be right. Roll on, 39th birthday, and I can officially be put out to pasture.
Pregnancy-wise there is nothing significant to report. No movements as yet to reassure me that all is well within, and no scans to peek into the hidden world either. An unexpected visit from the midwife yesterday confirmed that baby’s heartbeat is fluttering healthily and happily which is always an encouraging relief to hear. She also confirmed that my blood pressure was perfect – amazing considering had only just finished the unenviable task of scrubbing the downstairs loo whilst simultaneously trying to explain the differences of singular to plurals in Greek language – before answering the door to her surprise visit.
The midwife didn’t have my blood results yet, so promised she would chase them up which she duly did. I received a text to say that they were low, as they were expected to be, and to get in touch with my GP for iron tablets. It seemed pointless explaining to her the ongoing issue between my body not absorbing the iron through tablets, and so I said I would whilst making a mental note to look out for a 3 for 2 offer on Spatone, which seemed to work a little more effectively last pregnancy than iron tablets ever have. I did try Iron Vital F earlier on during the pregnancy. Despite the promise of it having a palatable taste I found it otherwise. I’m not sure whether that was purely down to first trimester nausea, so may give it another try now that the sickness phase is over. Hopefully, we’ll get that iron level raised a little before the next blood test at 28 weeks.
I still haven’t arranged my 20 week scan yet. This seems to be something which slips through my colander-like memory until I sit here to write about my pregnancy week. I then inwardly scold myself for not having arranged it which would a) prove that I am taking my pregnancy responsibilities seriously and b) give me something else to write about, before promising myself that I will organise it just as soon as I hit ‘publish’ on this post. Care to place your bets on which way next week’s entry will be written?