Pregnancy beginnings

The reason I started this blog was so that I had a record of my pregnancy. I’ve kept a written diary for as long as I can remember but I decided that there were some things I didn’t want to write down and also some things that needed recording in such a way that you can’t with paper, such as photos, videos etc so the blog began. My goal is to at some point, hopefully after the first year create a printed booklet or something that I can give to Peanut. I know children always ask questions and I didn’t want to be the mother that said ‘oh! I can’t remember’. So this is the first seven months, tears, anguish, joys and all….

Deciding to have a child was a decision that both myself and my partner took around Christmas/New Year time. We had The Discussion and so the trying began. I had met him online the summer before and felt that we were perfectly suited. Although there had been a few niggling issues at the start we had ironed them out. He had bought a house, in the same town as his folks, and two minutes away from them. I was there every weekend And spent a huge chunk of the holidays there. So the discussion came up, we loved each other, could see a future and it was baby shaped. In hindsight I have wondered if he truly did consider life with a child? If he was even able to see the immense change in life that a child would bring? I had, I knew what I needed to sacrifice, I knew how different our lives would be. I asked him if he had seriously considered this and he said he had. There was no reason to doubt him.

So in mid February, after a day where I was at the rugby game with colleagues we took the test. It was a Sunday morning,bring spring sunlit day. We walked to the Co-op together, I purchased the test (Clearblue digital) and took it back to his. I was excited and nervous, he was too. Although showed it differently. He was quiet and practical. I peed on the stick in the downstairs loo and sat it on the counter. Covered it for the few minutes we needed to wait. We talked, I can’t remember what about. I think I was too excited. I guess a bit of me knew, wanted to know. I wasn’t sure I could even get pregnant, having suffered from Polycistic Ovarian Syndrome. Well the minutes passed and I lifted the paper. The test was positive- it said quite clearly pregnant, after a few extra minutes the time appeared too 2-3. Meaning I was actually 3-4 weeks pregnant. I remember we hugged, happy, shocked, excited. I looked at him- he appeared the same, excited, shocked, happy. We were going to be a family. I think I said that to him, also that the baby would be the most loved, cutest baby ever!

So what do you do next? Well we had to go to church- it was a bright, dry, Sunday morning. We walked to church and I was full of beans. I felt happy and excited that there was a wee bit of us growing inside me and no-one knew. No-one could see, no-one could guess. I felt glowing and closer to him than I ever had. After church we went back to his folks for lunch. Before we ate, almost as some as we sat down, he had to tell them, we must have discussed this in the kitchen earlier and agreed parents would know first then other people at 12 weeks. I sat down, he stood, his folks were standing. He told them they would be grandparents, they were shocked, obviously. I looked at Him, he was nervous telling them this news. They reacted quite calmly and just said okay, that’s fine, as long as we were fine, they were fine. As long as we’re doing this for the right reasons his mother said. As long as we were together for the right reasons. Think she knew too many other couples who had accidents and stayed together just for the kid. We told her it wasn’t like that. They were most definetly not a hugging family so there was no hand shakes or hugs. We simply got on with the day. His dad appeared cheerful, there was chats about him as a child, how awful a baby he was. We walked the dog, ate, watched tv. I wanted to go tell my folks that day too but he didn’t, he couldn’t. He had to sit and check his folks were okay. It was too stressful for him to do both in the same day. I said that was okay. The next day was a holiday so we got up early and drove down to see my folks. Their reaction was different. After the initial Oh F**k, and you’re kidding. We had hugs and kisses and excitement. Dad was very excited. Mum shed a wee tear, I whispered it to my niece. We agreed that my siblings wouldn’t find out till the 12 week scan. Didn’t want to risk anything happening and my nieces not understanding. Both sets of parents mentioned marriage but that was something we never thought about. I think he said we’ll get to it. I wasn’t bothered, I was in love with this man, having a baby, saw a rosy future.

We agreed that it made sense for me to move in with him, as I was only renting. I remember him saying that this was “an inevitability” as I was there loads anyway and that was the way we were going. I handed In My notice at my landlord and started to pack, then the pregnancy symptoms started. I can’t remember, even now just six months later, in what order they came. Basically the first few weeks were a mixture of constant nausea, headaches in fact migraines and I couldn’t take anything for them. I went to the docs to get it confirmed and all the doc said was well if Clear blue is positive then that is more accurate than our tests so call the midwife and get an appointment. There was one weekend of random heartburn. I remember going shopping with him and his folks and buying gaviscon. It only lasted a weekend. I thought I was in for the whole pregnancy of heartburn like my sister. I was glad I wasn’t. The main symptom was definitely urine infections- I think I had about four or five in the first 12 weeks. 😦 these were not fun as they required me to take a day or two off work and just sit and drink water. I had to go on antibiotics,eventually I got stronger painkillers after my fourth migraine or something.

Whilst I was still in my flat we had our first booking in appointment with the community midwife, she started my first book and asked loads of questions, both to me and him. I had blood tests, urine tests, got asked the question about abuse at home, and got registered on their books, first scan booked. We took it in our stride, he was there, calm and collected, answering the questions etc. holding my hand.

The move didn’t go as I had planned it. I was very emotional and spent a few days in tears, also very ill so couldn’t really pack. I remember feeling sick when I woke up, then again about 9.30-10.30am. I’d the have a few good hours but it’d come back about 2.30-3.30 pm and again at night around 9pm. I bought ginger cake and ginger biscuits, lived on lucozade, and soup. Ate alone a lot as I couldn’t tell anyone at work. I eventually told the assistants I work closely with in case they began to wonder. I was never actually sick just felt awful. Drank plenty, wanted to eat plain,boring food. Missed a few nights out which was easy to hide as I was on antibiotics. I hated being on my own in my flat, he never stayed over or came to just give me a hug and tell me it’s okay. He said he doesn’t do sympathy! Again in hindsight a lot of hints but I ignored them.

Finally got moved in and thought things would be better, I’d be better. I put a lot of my feelings down to hormones and tiredness. My doctor in his home town was amazing. I remember going to see him with a migraine and he signed me off for a week, after I explained the move and the new experience of commuting an hour every morning and night. He told me to rest and chill out. The migraine was so bad I needed to get a taxi to the docs. It was only a ten/fifteen minute walk/ 2 minute car drive but I couldn’t make it. I felt like he truly cared about my well being, it was a nice feeling that someone was looking out for me. I did think that I should have felt like this from him and his folks. I also had my third urine infection at this point and the doc was worried. But then again said that if I suffered in the past, pregnancy can make them worse. 😦

All this took us up to Easter. By this time I had to tell my line manager as I had had so many days off and was felling rubbish. He was very understanding and congratulated me. I do remember that those days in his house resting, after I’d moved in and been signed off no one came to see me, not his mum, nor his dad. His mum invited up to theirs for dinner, but the last thing I wanted to do was get dressed and walk up to see them with the crazy, excitable dog and annoying cats. I wanted to be in my own house, where I could nap when I wanted and watch crap on telly. So I had to shop with my pounding head and cook for myself as he had dinner with them and spent a lot of the day at theirs “working” he hadn’t installed broadband, I offered many times to pay for it. He hadn’t installed a phone line, again I offered. He wouldn’t take anything from me for the house. I bought my own shopping and that was it. We agreed that money that would have gone to my rent went into a savings account for peanut.


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