It's been a mental week. We've been trying to digest the feedback about Noah. And we're struggling to get to grips with what's happening, oddly enough, despite being sort of prepared for what they were going to say. Maybe it's because Mrs ST called us up today and bumped us up for a food tolerance appointment. I was obviously pleased, but also unnerved as she asked me more questions over the phone about how he'd been since Monday.
And that's one reason I've barely posted this week.
Another reason, is because teh interwebz is bein cack. I spent 2 and a half hours on the phone to Virgin Media on Tuesday, ending up speaking to 4 different people. And still have the same problem. Fuckers.
Added to that, Isaac had is 8 month development check (yes, at 10 months), and Mme HV wants to refer him to a specialist. Because he's not growing. He's gaining pretty much no weight, is not getting longer and, well, yeah. She flagged it, wants him back to do more tests in 2 months at one year old, and wants us to go see the Dr in the meantime. Cos you know, I'm really enjoying being turned into the neurotic mother. Even though (and forgive me on this because I'm WAY too fucking overwhelmed this week), I'm almost...well...not bothered. Well, I AM bothered, obviously, but it hasn't hit me. I seem to have put up a considerable shield this week, and am now deflecting a good deal of shit.
And this. THIS is a big reason why I haven't posted.
Finally...
Presenting...
I don't know where all of the above is going. And as a result, all of the above is scaring the cock out of me.
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