I love my midwife, redux

This morning, just before my aquanatal class, I called my midwife, who wasn't working and had in fact been on leave since the 7th of January, the day after I called her last week, and I left a detailed message with two numbers for her to contact me. As soon as I hung up, she called me back, from her home, on her day off.

She has spoken to the other midwife, and they've arranged that I can keep seeing my original midwife, don't need to get my blood tests redone, and can in future see a female GP at the new clinic if that turns out to be necessary. Meanwhile, all my appointments can be with my beloved midwife, and the next one is on Thursday, at 11 am, in my own home.

She's coming to my own home to see me. Isn't that service? I think that's amazingly wonderful and I love her forever. All is sweetness and light (which is a neat trick, it being almost 7 pm here in Reading, in the south-east of the UK). Bluebirds are a-singin' in the trees and little bunnyrabbits are hoppity hopping in the valley.

[People who keep track of these things can now note that I had an antenatal appointment, my booking appointment, at 12 weeks. I had an ultrasound scan at 21 weeks, and another antenatal appointment with the consultant in the hospital at 22 weeks. I am now beginning week 27. So I've had two antenatal appointments and been denied two by receptionist-error. Luckily, I've never felt better in my life, and I believe unhealthy babies can't kick hard enough to hurt a listening father].