A strange but amazing feeling washed over me when I opened my first NHS letter from the hospital in which I would give birth. It was an invitation for my “booking in” appointment. Since I’d calculated I was around 8 weeks pregnant, I assumed that I would also have my scan at the first appointment too.
This appointment was simply a marathon question and answer session with my midwife who determined my medical health history from birth until the present day.
Some questions were extremely personal; any infections? Any previous pregnancies? Any surgery? Any embarrassing illnesses? (OK so I made the last one up) If you don’t want your partner to know the in’s and out’s of a cats backside, perhaps let them sit out of this particular appointment. Luckily (?) Pete knows all the in’s and out’s of this cats backside (did I really just write that?) and I don’t have any secrets from him; he gets given all the gory details of any health issues I have whether he wants to know or not. In fact, he actually came in quite useful when the excitement / nerves caused me to go blank at one or two questions.
Some questions just seemed bizarre to me, such as “Any European Grandparents?”
Why yes, as it happens. Pete’s half Dutch and I am quarter Polish. Both Grandmothers are Ginger (but we won’t hold that against them). A bit of a mixed bag.
I know I’m making out it’s a bit of a tedious session, but it’s nowhere near as bad as the preceding questionnaire before you donate blood (Ever paid somebody money in return for sex?) and actually, I got to ask lots of my own questions and my lovely midwife really put my mind at ease.
We had to decide what screening tests we wanted if any, and we decided we wanted all the scans available and the extra test for Downs Syndrome.
There were zero examinations down below, but I had to have several vials of blood taken.