“So, you’re measuring slightly small…” The midwife said, as she hovered above me with the tape measure.
I have to admit, my mind had been elsewhere at that point (my train of thought had included: Oh, how lovely to listen to the heartbeat just now. What shall I have for breakfast no2? Wouldn’t Eliza love the toy horse that’s in the office? Isn’t lying on the bed relaxing? What’s on my to-do list today? Need to write loads of emails. What shall we have for dinner?) But even when I realised what she said, I wasn’t really worried. Isn’t that what midwives always say?