Wednesday 3rd May 2017
What should have been a shower of joy and happiness has turned into a nightmare of distress and worry. Here I am bringing mumma Dora along to Dr Nikos and secretly hoping she will get the the first glimpse of a tiny baby in a wee sac, perhaps even a heartbeat. But we get none of that. Could there ever be a worse sight than a gynaecologist’s face dropping as he frets to find something, anything, that is a proof of life.
I’m ordered to give blood for a third HcG test – are the numbers hugh enough to ascertain a viable pregnancy? Is the issue in fact that I am pregnant but only an empty sac has developed so far? By thia stage I am apoplectic and there is no hiding my distress from Mumma. Even Dr Nikos sees fit to give mum a wee talk though most of it goes in one ear out the other; no mum can manage composure when the matter is to do with a grandchild. All I saw was tears welling in mum’s eyes. I’m to return to Dr Nikos on Friday mum; that’s all I know right now.
To think just before we saw Dr Nikos today I was on such a high knowing (thinking) I was carrying a healthy baby that I took mum up to the rooftop terrace of the Radisson Park where Danæ treated me to lunch the day it was confirmed I was pregnant.
Still all is not distress and worry in my confused world. Kingsley brings his JiaJia Dora (and I) endless joy especially during the manic school run. Here was this morning’s…