Please note: Everything that I write about on this site is something that I have made, created or experienced. I can only ever give you my experience and my point of view. Sometimes things are great and sometimes things are not so great. I’ll share both sides as that’s the stuff of life. My pregnancy diary will be written in exactly the same way. Don’t worry I won’t give you too much information but I will be honest. I think it’s silly and untruthful to sugar coat something like this for appearances sake and we all know that many more people relate to the truth than don’t!
It’s hard to discuss a pregnancy in the first three months because you’re not quite sure if it’s going to work out. I made that mistake with my first pregnancy. I was just so happy and so certain that nothing would ever go wrong because this baby was “just so right”, etc, etc..
Anyway, when I found out I was pregnant for the third time after two losses it was almost with a heavy heart that we broke the news to very close family members. We were all fairly stoic and just hoped and prayed that this one would work out.
The signs that the pregnancy was going well were there really early on and arrived in the form of nausea. Now, there’s something you should know about me and that is that I am really afraid of being sick. I dread getting food poisoning in case I have to puke. I dread it. So constantly feeling like I was going to wretch to within an inch of my life left me in quite a bit of fear ALL DAY LONG! Of course the flip side of this was that whenever I would worry about whether or not I was still preggers I would check and see if I was still feeling green and took comfort in the knowledge that, yes, I was indeed!
I was also pretty tired. On the weekends or when I’d finished work for the day I would go from room to room doing odd chores and have little naps in each of them. Power naps. But then of course the nausea increased to such an extent that I couldn’t even lie down let alone fall asleep so the utter luxury of my mini naps was abruptly taken away.
And then we had a scare.
So we were off again to the Early Pregnancy Unit and it was here that we found out that not only was the pregnancy still viable but that there were two of them in there.
Diary Entry – November, 7th 2009
” Twins. Can’t believe it. Sick as a dog.
But I love these little raisins already”
Diary Entry – November, 8th 2009
“Early, early, early. Still dark outside. In bed singing ‘I Will Survive’ to the raisins. Nearly threw up into my roast Chicken dinner last night. Pushed it aside when all I wanted to do was scoff the lot. Jeez, this is tough”
Diary Entry – November, 9th 2009
” Aha! So THESE are boobs. Hello, Boobs. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard all about you. Belly showing in tight clothes @ 7 weeks 4 days pregnant. Must be because there are two of them. I’m certain the books say that you can go up to 14 weeks without having to change your jeans. Bye bye jeans. Will I ever see you again?”
Diary Entry – November, 10th 2009
“This isn’t a bra it’s two flour sacks.”
Diary Entry – November, 11th 2009
“Ran from the office to the house. Big mistake. Stopped halfway across the drive. Nearly threw up. Had to spit. NOOOOOOOOOO! Good Lord. Goodbye running. Will I ever see you again?”
It was like this right up until Christmas Eve. I knew that we had family coming to ours on Christmas Eve and staying through to Boxing Day. I also knew that although Robert would do almost EVERYTHING because that’s the type of guy he is I would still need to be doing more than what I wanted to – which was nothing to be honest. So I just kind of wished, hoped and prayed that Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were nausea free as I’d had a couple of random days when I’d felt a lot better for most of the day. Only sliding in to the abyss at around four in the afternoon.
Well those two days were great. I had the occasional wave of sickness and tired myself out but they were great. Boxing Day was a bit iffy as I found myself on a coach going around hairpin bends in Austria but it really has been getting a lot better. Nowadays it’s the odd wave of sickness and a whole heap of other symptoms that seem to have taken its place.
My sense of smell has been rather delightful also. I currently have to wash every item of clothing that I am wearing if I cook a meal in them. Occasionally the bedding has to be changed on the bed after two nights because it smells to me like we’ve been in the bed for two and half months non-stop. And on Saturday night I walked in the kitchen and Robert was right down the other end walking towards the sink. “Did you just open the bin?” “Yes, five minutes ago” “IT STINKS. We have got to change it. Well, I can’t change it I’ll throw up. YOU HAVE TO CHANGE IT!!!!”
I have to be honest this is the hardest thing, physically, I have ever done. I say physically because in other ways I’m still pretty much the same apart from odd weepiness at stupid television that always catches me off guard and occasional forgetful moments like not taking the cash from the machine after it has been dispensed and wandering off down the street!. But honestly I think the only thing that has given me any comfort at all is the knowledge that these incredible (read : HIDEOUS) feelings are all symptoms of things going well.
But, it seems like the days of pushing all surrounding furniture away from me ASAP in case I am sick on to it are gone. And now I just need a wee bit of help getting out of my big chair if I’ve slunk down too far in it. Oh, and I tried to crawl under my desk to adjust the radiator yesterday and realised that I may not be able to do that very well for much longer.
So, I’m seventeen weeks pregnant today and have to see my community midwife today. They come to you on some occasions which was a huge surprise. And mine was lovely when I first met her. I’m now entering the exciting time of feeling them move and finding out if they are girls or boys or both.
But before I go I should explain what I believe to be the biggest lesson I have learnt so far during this time.
When my sister was pregnant with her twins I was always asking her how she was feeling, how it was going, was it fun, was she excited. She always answered me but never really appeared to me to be AS enthusiastic about the experience as I wanted her to be. Can you see what’s wrong with that last sentence? I believed that to be pregnant was enough. That even if you felt like a washed up floor cloth with pukey chunks all over you you should still have that glow of knowledge that would see you through. I even think I thought to myself that I would be a bit different when it finally happened to me. Can you believe the arrogance of that!!!!!
Well as it turns out Jo and I have had very similar pregnancy’s so far. I don’t know whether they will continue to be the same or not but now I truly understand feeling utterly amazed and excited that I am going to be a mummy while also feeling like I have been run over by a bus eighty two times and not liking it very much.
I think mummies are the most wonderful creatures on earth and each one of them has a different tale to tell. But if you had it a wee bit tough in the first few months then I’m with you. You and I can hang out in Nauseaville, Pukeland together until the babies get here.
I’ll be writing a new pregnancy entry each and every week from now on.
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