Mayhem and midwifery.

It had been five weeks since my last medical intervention.

After being cut loose from Clinic One at 12 weeks, I found myself anxious in the absence of regular blood draws and ultrasounds.  It’s true that I had my blood drawn twice during those five long weeks, but these tests were swift wam-bam-thank-you-ma’am blood lettings requisitioned by Clinic One and the midwife, Diet Coke.  Nothing more.  I was feeling a little twitchy.

So it was with some relief that I met up with Sea to head to the third visit with Diet Coke at the midwifery clinic last week.  Due to a hectic schedule, this was the first visit that Sea was able to attend.  She was nervous both about what the clinic would be like, and my ability to find my way there.  I scoffed in the face of her fear.  This was my third visit: I was an expert.


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Doctors and midwives and ultrasound technicians, oh my.

Two weeks ago I found myself wandering the aisles of a medical clinic holding a small cup of pee.

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