Thursday 28 April 2011

9th Week Update…

This Friday will be the 9th week (or logically, the 8th week) – but 9 is good so let’s stick with 9.  Nothing mind blowing to report this week, other than I’m up to my third consecutive week of peeing on a stick every Monday to check I’m still really pregnant!

 

2 lines!!  Pregnant!  Even I could be a doctor.

 

I have noticed that my work trousers are getting tight and uncomfortable – of course this is more than likely due to the amount I’m eating lately, and not the baby!  I went out and bought some comfy new trousers, some nice flat shoes and other random comfy things to make my long hours at work less tedious. 

Something else I’ve noticed since a few weeks ago, is that I have developed a really bad nerve pain in my left butt cheek.  Yeah, tell me about it.  Every time I bend over to get something, pick something up, or even sometimes when I sit at a slightly off angle, I can feel a really sharp pain in that area, and it doesn’t seem to be getting better lately.  I wonder if this is because something is squashing a nerve?  It’s a literal pain in the arse.

I thought I might upload some tummy pictures, but at the moment I just look like I’ve eaten too much, which, in all honesty I probably have anyway!  I probably will start putting some up when there’s actually something to see, other than flab, obviously.

In other news, the idea of it being twins has been batted around quite a bit.  Twins seem to run in Mr. M’s side of the family, so he has always joked that we’ll probably end up with a set.  It would definitely be a shocker – and we are due to find out on May 20th!  My 1st scan date has come through and I can barely contain myself.  I know it won’t be anything more than just a little blob in the photo, but it’s my blob – the first, real, tangible thing that shows just how real it all is.  Can’t wait to see you, Blob!

I have yet to write in the beautiful Baby Record book that my sister has bought me, as I want to leave it until the first scan has been done.  Similarly with telling everyone, I still feel like waiting.  There are still so many people who need to know, but I am still trying to come up with an interesting way to tell them!

In the mean time, I am counting the days until the first scan.  Can’t wait to show you all our little Blob!

Thursday 21 April 2011

The Age-Old Question: Boy or Girl?

Clearly it’s far too early to be thinking about this already – and it feels like an eternity before I will actually be able to find out.  But I am willing to hedge my bets that nearly every mother thinks about it.  Is it going to be a boy or a girl?  I know the obvious and most PC answer is: doesn’t matter as long as it’s healthy.  I know this – we don’t have to say it and pretend that it makes us better people – because despite many parents not minding what sex their child is, there are some who just simply have a preference. 

Honestly though, I hope my mindset will change.  I have had so long to think about this day that I seem to have twisted myself around the idea of having a girl.  I would go as far as to say that I’m not even content with the idea of ‘eventually’ having a girl, say, if this one turns out to be a boy – because a sick part of me panics and thinks: What if they keep turning out to be boys?

Why is it such a big deal?  Truthfully I don’t know.  I keep reminding myself that no matter what sex it is, I will still love it all the same, it will still be my beautiful child and nothing will change that.  But some part of me is desperate for a little girl.  Perhaps it is because there are so many little boys born to family and friends I know lately, or maybe because I’m immature and love the idea of dressing her up and playing tea party with her – that would be a totally shit reason to want a girl so badly.  I just don’t know what is driving this intense desire.  Every time I think about it, I feel a mixture of anxiety, guilt and frustration.  I’m anxious about how thinking like this will or won’t affect me as a person and as a mother, I feel guilty because I’d never want my little boy to know I wanted a little girl, and I feel frustrated because it’s still so long before I even find out for sure. 

I’m being ungrateful, I know.  How badly some people would love to even be able to have children, regardless of what sex they are.  And here I am, moaning about something I have yet to even find out.  It grosses me out too, trust me.  But I’m finding it difficult to imagine how I’d feel in the 20th Week when I see the scan – how will I feel if the midwife tells me it’s a boy?  And am I just over thinking this?  In fact, will it be any different if she tells me it’s a girl?  Or am I just focusing too much on something that’s largely unimportant, and warping it in the process? 

I really hope that over the coming months, my maternal hormones will kick in, and I’ll feel such a bond with the baby that it won’t matter come Week 20.  Fingers crossed. 

 

In other news, my first midwife appointment is on May 12th and I got the hospital I wanted :)

Aaaannnd my sister bought me a really beautiful Baby Record Scrap Book!!  SQUEEEE!!!

   

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Monday 18 April 2011

My Obsession With Those Pee-Sticks…

So, fast approaching Week 8, and I’ve realised I’ve developed a bit of a…habit.  I know when I tell you what it is, you’ll think I’m crazy.  But then, they do say pregnant women get that way…I just didn’t figure it’d be quite so early on! 

Most days, I feel pregnant.  I feel oddly bloated, my boobs hurt like mad, and random smells make me want to projectile vomit.  I’m weepy at adverts, I want to sleep every 2 hours and I eat like there’s no tomorrow.  But some days, I just don’t.  Some days, I just can’t imagine how there could possibly be anything going on in there, and I feel the same as any day before I got those two lines.  Of course I realise that it’s still so early on, and in fact should be thankful for the days of respite I get from the tell-tale symptoms.  But on those days, I start to panic.  Somehow I manage to convince myself that possibly, maybe, there’s no baby in there at all.  And that’s how the strange obsession started…

On realising my very real paranoia of the situation, I went out and bought a whole bunch of Pee-Sticks.  ….I know.  It’s extreme.  But every week on the same day now, I pee on one of them just to reassure myself – and I intend to do so every week until I get my first scan.  Seeing the result just lets me know that I haven’t imagined the whole thing, and that everything is still happening as it should.  Mr. M kindly joins in with my mild-psychosis and humours me every week when I come in with yet another positive stick.  Thanks for that :)

 

Tuesday 12 April 2011

And So It Begins…

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been planning my family. I knew that no matter where life took me, what I ended up doing and who I ended up doing it with (no pun intended!), children would be a big part of my life. After surviving 9 years of ups and downs, (and thankfully more ups!) Mr. M and I finally married this year.

Fortunately for us, it feels completely right – and there have been no shock surprises so far, since largely nothing has changed. The biggest perk being that I can refer to him as my ‘husband’, instead of ‘boyfriend’ – which started to sound a bit off after 5 years down the line.

So after that bit of back-story, it seems only logical to mention that I decided to start this blog to document my pregnancy; every milestone, every new feeling, craving, mood swing and everything else that might happen along the way. I’m almost certain that 20 years down the line, I will want to look back at this, and be able to recall every little detail of this moment I’d been waiting for, and if I have a daughter it may be interesting for her to read as well in the distant future. Aside from this, it will serve as my way of updating my friends and family who want to know how things are progressing.

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Right now, I’m backtracking. My intention is to write on a more real-time basis, updating daily or weekly, depending on what happens and how much time or energy I have. But I’ve been distracted, and mostly lazy, and so now I’m backtracking.

And I haven’t told everyone yet, but eventually everyone I do tell will have a chance to catch up with it all hopefully from here.

Here we go: Rewinding back to a couple weeks ago, we were enjoying the er, freak tropical rain storms in Thailand, during our honeymoon. Of course having done our share of honey-mooney things...

Ok no, forget that. Fast forward again: I peed on a stick, the first time in Thailand – I got the two lines, the results were positive, but the lines were faint. So, I retested again 3 days later back in the UK on an old and recently expired spare test I had stashed away (I have no idea, don’t ask), which in typical fashion, didn’t work properly, but I still got the two lines. I had to sleep on it before rushing off in the morning to buy another one from the store; a fancy digital one this time because I was getting tired of those bloody elusive lines! And finally after breaking that one out, I stared at the little screen for the longest time and in words as clear as day: Pregnant 3+.

I know for most people, particularly those who may be reading this who don’t know my medical history – this probably doesn’t seem like anything shocking. But for the longest time, and with good reason, I honestly thought I could be infertile. Thanks to a very prolonged period on Depo (the contraceptive injection – you could even Google the associated dangers of prolonged usage), a complete absence of anything resembling a period for two years after I stopped using it, and totally irregular, unpredictable and frustrating cycles thereafter, I really was starting to believe that maybe I had just screwed my body enough to wreck my baby-making equipment for good.

So imagine my surprise at the results, considering this was our first attempt.

The funniest thing is that Mr. M was adamant the he would reserve his excitement for the doctor's verdict. Whilst I was hopping around the bedroom is post-test hysteria, Mr. M smiled to himself, quietly smug but unwilling to join in until he had heard a professional say it. Cue the next day at the surgery, in the presence of one of the most retarded resident doctors we have had the fortune to meet, and instead of a blood test like we’d expected, he tells me to pee in a cup. Two minutes later, he returns with what looks like a Tesco own-brand pee stick, which has revealed two clear, pink lines. “Congratulations!” He says, “Two lines, it’s positive.” So...that’s what they teach you at Doctor Academy!

In any case, that seemed to make Mr. M suitably happy and so, doctor’s pee stick or mine aside, I was officially pregnant.

 

Week 1-7

By the time I found out for definite, 5 and half weeks had already passed. By my count, it was only 4 and a half weeks, but apparently doctors here count it from the week of your last period, which makes it a week more... So, as I’m excited as hell, I was happy to be a week further on than I expected, even if we were really just kidding ourselves!

During this time, other than feeling a bit bewildered and still not really believing that it had happened quite so fast, nothing much else seemed to be happening. A week after I found out, I started feeling pretty queasy throughout the day, the thought of certain foods made me want to gag, and bad smells smelt even worse than usual. Thankfully as the week has progressed, that seems to have tailed off, and I’ve been hit with random fatigue instead.

Currently I have just entered week 7, and aside from needing to pee frequently, especially at night which disrupts my normally good, solid sleep – I have experienced no other symptoms! And hopefully we can keep it that way.

At first I downloaded every baby App available for my phone, reading repeatedly through the different changes the baby would be going through every day, obsessively looking at the diagrams of blobs and alien-shaped embryos, until eventually I had memorised the changes for the next 2 weeks and got fed up of reading ahead.

So for the time being, I just intend to sit back and relax a little, and before long the days will have flown by.

Mr. M on the other hand, is fastidiously cleaning up after our cats, making sure the house is safe for baby and me. Occasionally he will come and listen to the sounds of my digestion, imagining to himself that it’s our lentil-sized baby making noises. This is both amusing and endearing in equal measure, and it makes me feel fuzzy to know how much he will love him or her when he or she finally arrives.

Typically, I’ve been reading up on all things pregnancy-related, and managed to scare myself with all the tales and statistics of miscarriage. I actually feel fine within myself, other than tired – I don’t feel unwell and haven’t seen anything that might indicate something untoward might happen. But all the same, knowing about it is enough to make me keep quiet until the 12th week has passed, and I’ve hopefully got a scan picture to reassure myself. A select handful of people do know, those of whom I could not possibly keep it from through sheer excitement (my sister and cousins), necessity (my mum, my boss), by default (Mr. M), but I have had to continually deny my baby’s existence to everyone else who happens to ask, and for some reason everyone seems to be asking lately! It feels really strange to say “no” when somebody asks if I’m pregnant yet, like I’m pretending he/she isn’t there, but I’m almost certain I’m doing the right thing for now.

A colleague of mine told everyone she was pregnant a while back, but then miscarried a few weeks after that. Within 3 months she was pregnant again, and again she told everyone, only for tragedy to strike again. I figure from her experience that it would be best to wait it out for a bit longer.

Anyhow… and on a lighter note, I think this baby likes rice. :)

 

 

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