MrM spent most of the morning waiting for our last scan to see if the placenta has moved out of the way as our last visit showed that there was a chance that I'd have to have a Caesarean. We spent more than an hour waiting and just 5 minutes having the scan, but the good news is that it has moved!
The funny thing is that the baby is quite big (about 5 and a half pounds), so this scan revealed less of its appearance than the previous two. However, the sonographer (or stenographer as MrM called her - I had visions of her typing out everything we said while we were being scanned), remarked that the baby was scowling, but I couldn't see this for some reason.
MrM attributed the baby's scowling to a woman in the waiting room who brought in a little girl with her and then proceeded to ignore her while she called her friend, giving her a vivid description of Sunday when she "see Loretta, that f***ing b****". She continued in this vein for a good hour which was not the most pleasant thing to witness.
Talking of cringeing, MrM's dad has a knack of saying strange things to me. I have been avoiding him throughout the pregnancy, as I was worried he might make an inappropriate comment. He didn't. The first thing he said when I saw him was "How is everything down below?" That's restrained by his standards!
On the same evening, one of MrM's very drunk relatives came over to me and said: "Who the f*** are you?" which isn't the fastest way of endearing yourself to me. He then asked if he could put his hand on my belly. I was just about to give a very clear answer, when MrM wobbled over and said: "Of course!" while lifting my scarf out of the way.