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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