This morning was supposed to be a relaxing and fun time to meet with the midwives and learn some things about my pregnancy. It began to crash and burn when they sent me to the wrong clinic.
After I picked up some Caribou, I drove to my destination. Furiously I found a parking spot and hightailed it up to the second floor to find a note directing me halfway across the hospital to an auditorium. After I finally found the place, I took my blood pressure and handed it to the nurse who looked for my chart, but couldn't find it. She told me I was at the wrong class in the wrong place. I gave her the letter I received about the class a few days prior, which didn't mention anything about a different location. Feeling ridiculous, I put my coat back on as the nurse tried to contact someone for me at the correct location across town. She gave me some paper directions and saw me on my way. I sat in my Jeep and cried for a bit. I didn't know how to figure out that paper map. But determined to go to this class, I wiped my tears with a Caribou napkin and figured out how to program my destination into GPS so I could zoom to the next place.
The tragic morning ended on a good note when I was welcome with many friendly faces, apologies, and a gift bag filled with goodies at the next stop. I began to relax as I chewed a NutriGrain Bar and looked through my new binder full of information. The baby, I found out, is at my belly button now. I was able to listen to it's baby's cowboy gallup heartbeat again, laugh, and model the belly band I was wearing to the class. Still feeling high strung from the morning, but perhaps next time will be less stressful.~*
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