Hello everyone!
I can tell that my working patterns haven't changed. I "locked" myself in my card making "cave" and lost contact to the outer "blogging world" for a little while. I have six cards ready on my desk, but none of them photographed or edited or ready to be shown to the world. I have got to get back to a balanced schedule: making a card, taking photos, editing, writing blog post, making a card...
Today I am more tired than I expected to be. We came back last night from Houston, the trip planned to go and have the first ultrasound for our little baby. That was scheduled for Saturday at 1 pm.
On Friday, at 5 pm (probably the last thing on the receptionist's list... - you may notice the sarcasms born from my sadness, I don't mind), I get a call from the practice, telling me that they need to change the appointment to an earlier hour. I was more than willing to oblige, like I always do. James and I half-heartedly agree, although that meant waking up much earlier in the morning to make it there after a 3-hour drive. This, after I knew that James was about to have a loooong night at work.
I did something that left my husband speechless. I picked up the phone and called them back.
I told the receptionist that was sorry for agreeing to the earlier appointment, but the truth is that we made the appointment for 1 pm with a reason and we need to stick to it. And that the Friday night before the appointment was too late to call a change on us. We were willing to go almost three hours away because they came highly recommended (probably only for their medical skills...) but we need them to stick to the initial appointment. I asked what happened, why do they need to change it? "Because the sonogram tech has something to do that afternoon..." Do her nails? Her hair? What she had to do was come to the 1 o'clock appointment, THAT's what she had to do, in my (and my wallet's) opinion.
She asked me, nicely, if she should go ahead and cancel the appointment all together. I said yes. I don't think this place cared for me or my baby. They might have hundreds of ultrasounds under their belt and a thing like this doesn't matter to them. But it did to me.
We still went to Houston, later that evening. We had a nice hotel room booked and we wanted to go to a Romanian church on Sunday morning. Later in the afternoon, we filled our basket at a Eastern European and Middle-Eastern food store with goodies that remind me of my homeland ("and of my people" as James puts it).
Today it hit me harder. I know that having the ultrasound or not has no influence over my baby, but we've been preparing ourselves for the joy of finding out what color the little clothes are going to be! :-) But it won't be long until we'll find out, I'm sure.
Tomorrow I am going to pour all this frustration into taking pictures of some cards and putting them on the blog! :-)
Thanks for listening.














