Off back to the EGA Wing at UCLH to see the midwife . I’m doing the usual ‘ take the time on the tube to write my blog’ thing. Mr Pregnantcitygirl reading the Metro opposite me (a scintillating addition to the post, that!). I’m lucky to have him come with me, in fact, I’m so lucky as it would be impossible trying to keep him away. I’ve been thinking lately; I love him so much. I don’t know what I’d do without him. I don’t think we have your average marriage. I feel safe and protected with him. He’s always looking out for me, looking after me. I would never ever be worried that we might have an argument and he would think badly of me. I am probably too dependent. He was under the Aston the other day (nothing new there, he’s always taking things off, putting them on, draining break fluid, fixing the aircon- he’s brilliant like that luckily, as we certainly couldn’t afford to send it to the garage every weekend!) and the jack collapsed. I exaggerate once again because he wasn’t under it, (or is that just a plain old lie then?!) he had been under it. I came out to see the car with no wheels on perched precariously on our drive, resting on its chassis. He could easily have been crushed. Given that I’ve berm stung twice this summer by a wasp, my first time in 38 years of life, I am worried that my luck is running out or running low at the moment at least, so I really contemplated the tragic possibility of the worst at that moment and it’s not worth contemplating, if that the right way of putting it, so that it doesn’t sound like I might have been thinking that there was a positive side to it!
At the hospital now. Men are funny creatures. Start talking to complete strangers over football. I think football is for thugs but one thing I must say is that it seems unites people, when they’re on the same side that is. I think it’s a bit of an alien concept for women, forgive me all you football-loving geezer birds!! Continue Reading

I’m getting sick of my own writing style. It seems a tad narcissistic to blog about oneself. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’m really only doing it for the money! I’m still delusional enough or a positive enough person ( however you look at the world) to believe it’s worth having hope. I must admit, also, that although In the past I would have turned my nose up at the idea, writing is somewhat therapeutic. Especially helping to pass time for someone as impatient as myself. Tube journeys to the hospital and waiting around are no longer hiking my stress levels sky-high.
Today, I’m on the Tube off to meet a very good friend for lunch . Someone I met a long time ago when I was working in a French bank. An analyst back then and the smartest person I know by far in the investment world.  Anyway, I’ve had to avoid him for the last four months as one of my drinking/lunching buddies. It would have been too obvious otherwise. Added to that is that fact that as a dear friend, I really wanted to tell but B really reigned me and my big mouth in so against all my instincts I kept quiet.
Just met him for a very convivial lunch. Cheap and cheerful Turkish at Tas in Farringdon. I can almost say that I’m starting to enjoy sober meals out. Diet Coke (just the odd one, mind) is the new Pinot Grigio. I’m definitely happier and more relaxed. Everyone keeps saying.
I’m in the ante natal ward at UCLH now (my second time this week but this time to see the consultant) and it’s still a pleasant and uncrowded place to be. Theres a lady with a tiny, tiny baby standing 5 feet away. I’m actually thinking it’s cute and not hating it for once. Perhaps I’m coming to terms with being pregnant and I’m able to appreciate it. I think it also comes down to the fact that I’m super relaxed re work. My ‘boss’ is off for three weeks ‘working’ so I don’t even need to go to the office for an hour a day to ease my guilt. I’ve been to pregnancy pilates this morning. I really enjoyed it. At Pilates Art Physiotherapy in Kilburn High Road. Mat classes taught by physiotherapists. Very thorough and a nice teacher named Maria. It was a hard workout but a good one as I actually worked some of those lazy muscles of mine!
Blimey, I’m almost raving for me. I’m in a good mood. This is becoming a scary habit! Continue Reading

Don’t all fall off your seats at once. Yes, this really is me back with a premature (excuse the pun) post!
It’s the work thing or lack thereof. I did say I’d explain last time so here goes, career update:
I was called to a meeting with HR on Tuesday to discuss the option of taking the redundancy offer further. Ie progressing a letter which was first sent to me in January warning me of the possible redundancy of my position – clever of them really given that they had actually made it redundant before my team had even joined by withdrawing the investment promised to us to start our equity desk on our first day!
So, after almost five months of nothingness, happily sat through quietly by me, (who wouldn’t on full pay, no boss to watch over you and going through the trauma of IVF?) and after two previously delayed meetings to pursue other internal possibilities, the official process has begun again. We have one more ‘opportunity’ to check out (one from our Paris office where a colleague is potentially setting up a desk he’d like me to join – never going to happen in my opinion but if HR can wait for him to let then know if it’s going to go ahead probably – another month of getting paid-then who am I to complain? The reality is that I can’t really accept a job anyway because their maternity benefit generously extends to statutory!! In such a male dominated firm you would expect more, especially because they would hardly ever have to pay out, but such is the nature if the beast.
So, I’m hanging on as long as possible. They don’t know I’m pregnant and until the redundancy is confirmed I won’t be telling them or, knowing them, they will try to find some way to avoid the redundancy given maternity leave would be cheaper for them.
I have a meeting with HR next week but in the meantime I have time on my hands. You know what that means?I’m bored!  More scans! I’m now sitting in the walk-in clinic at UCLH having had a few pains after my yoga stretching and not being able to wait until my Mondays scan appointment I’ve come here. Amazingly there is no queue and I’ve been called in twice but I’m waiting for my husband, let’s call him B from now on, so that he can see the scan too. Ridiculous, the NHS is waiting for me!
Scan update; all is well. Baby is bouncing around like mad and measures 58mm. A morning well spent. Plus, I had some blood tests to get done from my midwife so up the stairs I went and walked straight in. Empty clinic again. I’m starting to like the NHS! Continue Reading