Ninja Baby. No Laughing.

I had my scan today, it was hilarious.

We opted to go private for our scans because the NHS is like a creepy haunted house full of jerks. I swear it's the difference between the receptionist fucking up your appointment then telling you in a condescending voice that it's not her fault and it's somehow my fault, and being all dark and old and crap, and compared to having it is Jesus's waiting room in heaven.

Bright Lights. Opera Music. Posh Coffee Machine that we couldn't figure out how to use. This is more like it. I wish I could have my baby there. At this rate i'll have to rent a suite at the Dorchester and completely fuck it up with my amniotic fluid all over everything.

The one problem however with posh places, is posh people, specifically posh ultrasound technicians who are too busy and important for you to be having a giggling fit on the scan table.

The whole ultrasound experience is just absurd. It's science fiction on a whole other level. It's a life form inside my belly! wtf! My lifeform also happens to be a tiny ninja.

The ultrasound technician lubed up my belly then turned to his expensive panel of knobs, and started rendering and grading the new Hobbit movie... not really, but his equipment looked like state of the art editing technology. All those knobs!

My little ninja prawn was jumping all over the place. Not surprising. I won't even let Lenny sleep on my belly, and now some dude is jabbing and probing all over the place, and little ninja was not loving it.

He was doing all kinds of acrobatic moves. Embryo-Yoga. Circus Trapeze. He really would not stop jumping around all over the place, and I found this rather amusing... and I started giggling.

I was giggling so much that the ultrasound technician had to pause and give me a withering look of "are you settled now?" as in "can we get on with it you childish moron"......

Well, as soon as someone disapproves of your laughing, well that just makes it all the more funnier and I was crying with laughter. I couldn't look at anything. Mark had to be relegated to the naughty corner because just thinking of him going "It's jumping all over the place!" would set me off again.

Why is it that even when we choose to go private and pay exorbitant prices for procedures they're giving out for free at NHS Hospitals we still come out looking like the idiots?

I wish there was a Clown College, and you could go there and get Medical Degrees, and then those clowns would open up their own Hospital. I would find it so much more relaxing and rewarding to be scanned by someone who was going "what's the deal with placentas? stingrays of the ladyparts". and then in the labour ward when your kid slides out of you finally it falls on the doctors face and his giant fake nose goes HONK HONK. That's the kind of birth I want.