So after I'd nearly killed myself running (believe me, this is difficult with SPD) down the stairs to get to the phone earlier and it was bloody Sky (DH told them it was not a good time!) I was all set to give them an earful when the phone rang a few hours later at 8:45pm this evening. Yes, that late!!
It was not Sky, it was a lovely midwife from Kings College. Despite being told 3-5 working days, it was a mere 32 hours since the amnio. The NHS at its best.
The first thing she said was "I have good news for you" before asking me my date of birth. Poor DH thought it was bad news because I looked like I was going to cry!
My little boy does not have Down Syndrome :) Nor does he have T13 or T18 or Cystic Fibrosis.
Okay, so we were "only" 1 in 34, but I'm good at being "the one" when it comes to pregnancy so I have tormented myself appropriately over the last 20 weeks. I was convinced on many, many occasions there was an issue.
I think I have been worrying for so long it is going to take a while to sink in. Alas I am currently on prophylactic antibiotics for my TAC (transabdominal cerclage) this week so I can't even celebrate with a small 
And I don't have to be on tenterhooks for that phonecall any more either!
Bloody hell, roll on that non-invasive blood test. I can't go through that again. Nobody should have to.