Yesterday was one of those uneventful/eventful kind of days—my morning was spent dealing with a cat poop emergency that left me ready to feed the little furball to coyotes, but it turns out that they don’t have coyotes here (for the record, he is fine, just fussy about litter quality/quantity). Ended up barfing, hopefully for the last time, and largely provoked by cat poop. Happy fifteen weeks, little bird!
The consult at the midwives’ clinic went well. I will have to give birth in a hospital, I will have to stay there for twenty-four hours after birth, but they seemed like very nice people. It was sort of annoying that the woman we talked to wasn’t able to modify her orientation chat for our circumstances: for example, she was trying to explain that they don’t have many visits early on, and I’m thinking, Which is why I didn’t call you until T2. She also couldn’t bear in mind that I’ve given birth before, and was trying to reassure me about first-timer stuff. So that was frustrating. She also, when they didn’t have the answer I wanted (e.g., you can labor in water but then you have to get out—they don’t do water birth), she tried to persuade me (in a friendly way) that I didn’t really want what I think I want. On the other hand, they seem like very nice people, and I don’t have a lot of options. They did let us hear the heartbeat at the very end, and Mr. Book got all teary-eyed. Since then, he’s kept making the heartbeat noise at random times; I’m so glad that he’s excited about this dad thing.
Okay, nope, just threw up again, totally not near or even thinking about any cat poop. My morning sickness took a couple of weeks off, but it’s back!