Julien had to go back to work for the first time since leaving Mayotte. Poor fellow wasn't feeling particularly excited. I had a blah attitude towards the day on his behalf. I get to stay home, but he has to go back to the grind.
After I took him to work, I realized the washing machine that we just paid much dinero to have repaired (ouch!) had not rinsed or spun the load I put in before breakfast. I ran it again without soap and got the same results. I tried a lighter load and the machine seemed to do OK. I was getting ready to go to my appt with a midwife when it started raining on my already-soaking-wet towels, so I had to gather them up and put them on a rack in the bathtub to dry while I hurried off.
The road to the midwife's office was full of slow zones, making me think I was going to be late. When I arrived in the town (not one I know) I realized the route I had scoped out on mappy was no good because it began with a one-way...going in the wrong direction.
But then, amazingly, I aimed my car in the general direction of where I knew her office to be, found a spot right in front of it without even realizing I had arrived. The sun came out. I was on time. And I had an utterly fantastic meeting with her. It seems my rotten luck with French medical staff is turning.
I'm 4.5 months along. The baby appears to be doing great. I got to hear the heartbeart. And I found a good soul to give me birth classes and do my monthly checkups. The only downside: She doesn't do the delivery. But she recommended to the hospital where she used to work, where midwives and not gynos deliver the babies, so I think things might work out all right after all.
Sometimes you get to beat the odds, even when it is a Monday, and turn "one of those days" into the fine and dandy variety.