I ended up making an unplanned visit to the midwife in the middle of the day, having spent several hours in the morning at work feeling dizzy and faint, rather as if I’d been clubbed on the head. Everyone at work had numerous ideas as to the cause of said unpleasantness and, to alleviate my own worries, and to put an end to the speculation, I popped to the midwife.

Don’t worry, all’s ok with the baby. Good heart beat. My tummy, which she thought looked a little on the small side, measured 27 cm, which I’m told is the “right size” (if such a thing exists). No DVT. Blood pressure fine. Either I’m coming down with a virus or I’m just over tired and being over-doing things a bit.

I suspect it’s the latter, given the high of the weekend and the low of the week that followed. I’ve been crying over everything and holding all the other stresses and worries I’ve been told about this week rather than letting things go. A quiet weekend with Marto is what is needed.


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