Disappointing morning


Is there a post-pregnancy hormone (a full four months on) that I can blame for my wanting to cry over silly things? I can’t blame PMS because those mechanics haven’t even resumed yet, but I’d like there to be some chemical reason, just so I don’t feel so abashed.

I had two appointments this morning, neatly organised so I didn’t have to go out twice. I was to visit the chiropractor to get my spine adjusted, then my GP to get her signature on a form so I can apply for help paying for the spine work. At the end of the day I was to have the stupendous pleasure of having my maid of honour, whom I haven’t seen for a couple of years, come to visit.

The chiro appointment went well enough. Timmy was happy to chillax on the floor of the treatment room, sucking his dummy.

The first disappointment came when I got back to the car and received a text message from my friend, from which I learned I’d excitedly got ahead of myself — she was to come tomorrow night, not tonight.

The next disappointment was upon arriving at the doctor’s office, to be told by the receptionist that my appointment was yesterday. And no, sorry, you can’t get a slot today because the doctor’s fully booked now.

I was sure I’d booked a Thursday appointment. I was about to defend this belief when several things occurred to me so fast, they were almost simultaneous:

  1. I could be wrong. Perhaps I did just write the appointment in the wrong date of my diary.
  2. It doesn’t matter who’s wrong. What’s happened has happened, and debating fault won’t change it.
  3. Getting grotty/upset/hostile will serve no helpful purpose, but only make things worse.
  4. I won’t be any worse off if I reschedule for tomorrow. My head’s not going to fall off between now and then.

So I apologised for having missed my appointment (the receptionist looked relieved I’d chosen that route, rather than get defensive), and rescheduled for tomorrow morning.

Still, I felt miserable as I dejectedly walked out of the health centre, clutching a baby to my chest, trying not to bury my face in his hoodie so nobody would see me battling tears. Why was I almost crying? How absurd! My friend’s still coming — just a day later than I’d anticipated — and I’d suffer no misfortune from having the doctor’s appointment a day transposed, either.

I resolved to soothe my psyche with coffee as soon as I got home. Coffee with whipped fresh cream, and ground cinnamon. Then I would blog about it all, to complete my catharsis.

…Yes, it has worked well.


(2) Comments

  • Andrea Latoa
    23 Aug 2012

    Ahh sending you cyber hugs for today… while you’re at the doctor – get a blood form to get iron checked (if you haven’t already had it checked.) Iron deficiency/anaemia is a sneaky thief of energy and resources and easily treatable (best prevented, in my experience.) Of course it might just be “one of those days!” which mothers have come and attack them sometimes.

    Lovely that you are writing so much – I take that as a good sign – creative brain = a less sleep deprived Eve?? 🙂

    • Eve
      23 Aug 2012

      I’m actually already on iron tablets…technically. The challenge is remembering to take one every day! I must be managing to do it sometime though, because tests show my iron levels have risen from bankruptcy to the lower end of acceptable.

      And yes, I get more sleep these days, which I’m very thankful for! A short while ago Timmy had consistently woken only twice each night, for a week, and now it seems he’s settled at three a night. As much as I’d like him to go back to two, three is still much better than six! I still claim victory.

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