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Finding The Happy

Looking for joy in all the right places

Date

1 November 2010

Call me a doctor. I’m not sick.

Managed to sneak to the doctor’s just before 5.00pm today, and after the usual chit-chat (my family doctor loves me because I’m from Singapore and he’s Chinese and has Malaysian relatives), he asks how he can help us today, and we launch with,

Well… we think we’re pregnant.

Turns out that the blood test is as accurate as the pee sticks anyway, but he gives me the form to run off and do a blood test later. Meanwhile, he’s telling us to start booking the obstetrician, gives me a recommendation for one (who – surprise, surprise – is Malaysian) and then proceeds to talk to us about the history of the public health system and the deal with midwives.

And suddenly, I have to form a strong opinion about stuff I’d previously never cared about either way.

Like,

  • Public or private healthcare?
  • Doctor or Midwife? (Which, funnily enough in Australia, links to the question of Public or Private)
  • Breastfeeding at All Costs or All Milk is Good Milk?
  • Home births: convenient or crazy?

Also, as soon as anyone tells me I shouldn’t eat something, I feel the most desperate desire to eat just that. Hence, I now crave all kinds of sashimi, soft cheeses, cold meats, and B grade drugs like antihestamines. (It’s Spring! There’s fluff in the air like you wouldn’t buh-lieve!)

The good news is that he wants me to eat plenty of red meat and green leafy vegetables, and down at least a glass of milk a day. And come to think of it, he never actually told me to ease off alcohol – although I think that’s supposed to go without saying. Or is it. :)

I had to keep reminding myself I’m pregnant. I found myself running across the street (okay, tottering across the street) in Nine West heels that gave me great man-height, and then came to a screeching halt when I remembered what the heck I was doing. I’m looking at my wardrobe and ordering them in my head from tight to hide. And yet, I’m still trying to curb the enthusiasm.

Because apparently the odds of miscarriages are one in four, which might explain a couple of other weird months I’ve had in the past, but which also makes a sobering statistic to pay attention to. So yes, cautious optimism.

Note to self: steer clear of online news articles that include the words “mutant” and “baby” in the headline.

Great maternity T-shirts

Because T-shirts sometimes say it better.


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