This morning I woke up and went to the bathroom. As I looked down, I was horrified to see the sign that every pregnant woman dreads - fresh, red blood.
Thirty minutes of hysterical crying, panicking, hurried dressing and driving to the hospital. Two hours waiting in the Early Pregnancy Unit. One painful internal examination and the ominous words 'threatened miscarriage'. J and I trying to make sense of it all, trying desperately to convince the doctor to tell us that this is 'normal', that we shouldn't be worried. Hand squeezing, bated breath, crawling back into bed, tearful, exhausted, praying that everything is ok.
I need to go back on Thursday for another scan. The doctor said that my cervix is closed, which is a good sign, I have no pain and haven't bled anymore since 10am. Everything is looking positive. But the situation seems so precarious that I daren't move in case it goes away.
What will now follow is three days of torture, desperately hoping that Peanut is ok. Three days of false optimism and forced smiles and being hyper aware of every single twinge and pressure I feel. Three days of scrutinising my knickers for any trace, however small, of blood.
The wait is agonising but nothing compared to the thought of me losing this baby.
Please Peanut, please be strong and safe and healthy.
Showing posts with label early. Show all posts
Showing posts with label early. Show all posts
Monday, 1 April 2013
Tuesday, 26 March 2013
Our First Antenatal Clinic
Today I visited my GP for the second time. She is really nice and always remembers me and my medical history which I appreciate. I talked through some of my concerns and queries with her today including peanut butter and underwired bras! That made her laugh! Fortunately, it seems not wearing an underwired bra and not eating peanut butter during pregnancy are myths. I should be able to do both these things with little or no impact on the baby.
However, I may need an injection for typhoid when I go to Egypt and she said she will prescribe me a mild form of Valium to knock me out on the plane journey over there and back, which has made me feel lots better. Without a big shot of Jack Daniels to knock me out, I was worried I would get very stressed on the plane, which would in turn stress out poor Peanut. But, like a placebo, just knowing that I'll have something I can take is enough to make me not worry as much.
An old friend from school gave birth yesterday to a beautiful baby boy. I contacted her to wish her congratulations and, after talking for a bit, she mentioned that she'd lost a lot of blood and the delivery had not gone according to plan. That must have been terrible for her, but also, freaks me out big time! I'm trying very hard not to think about labour and how horrific it will be. If I dwell on it too much, it all gets a bit overwhelming.
The doctor mentioned for me to contact the National Childbirth Trust as they are a charitable organisation that provides antenatal classes and advice to expectant and new mums. I've just signed up on their website so I'm hoping I can find some women who are at the same stage in their pregnancies as me soon, it would be good to talk openly about my fears and concerns with women who are in the same position.
Still no morning sickness (yay!) but I am already detecting less than subtle changes to my body. I have gone up a whole cup size already! My boobs are now bigger than J's head! I'm not posting a picture though!
However, I may need an injection for typhoid when I go to Egypt and she said she will prescribe me a mild form of Valium to knock me out on the plane journey over there and back, which has made me feel lots better. Without a big shot of Jack Daniels to knock me out, I was worried I would get very stressed on the plane, which would in turn stress out poor Peanut. But, like a placebo, just knowing that I'll have something I can take is enough to make me not worry as much.
An old friend from school gave birth yesterday to a beautiful baby boy. I contacted her to wish her congratulations and, after talking for a bit, she mentioned that she'd lost a lot of blood and the delivery had not gone according to plan. That must have been terrible for her, but also, freaks me out big time! I'm trying very hard not to think about labour and how horrific it will be. If I dwell on it too much, it all gets a bit overwhelming.
The doctor mentioned for me to contact the National Childbirth Trust as they are a charitable organisation that provides antenatal classes and advice to expectant and new mums. I've just signed up on their website so I'm hoping I can find some women who are at the same stage in their pregnancies as me soon, it would be good to talk openly about my fears and concerns with women who are in the same position.
Still no morning sickness (yay!) but I am already detecting less than subtle changes to my body. I have gone up a whole cup size already! My boobs are now bigger than J's head! I'm not posting a picture though!
Monday, 4 February 2013
One Week Ago
One week ago I got some fantastic news. News that I have dreamt about getting for so long that at first I couldn't believe it was real. I had to pinch myself.
A little plastic stick in my hand told me that I was pregnant, that I would be expecting my first child.
I rushed downstairs to show J.
"We're going to have a baby!" I gasped.
"Really?!" his face mirrored my own emotions - a combination of disbelief, tentative joy and that feeling you get when you're holding something very, very fragile, like a butterfly or sugar glass. "Let me see." I handed him the pregnancy test. "Eurgh it's got your wee on it..." he muttered, holding it up to his face.
But the evidence was there. Two strong red lines, the strength and rapidity of which we hoped would be a reflection of the tiny life growing inside me.
What followed was an evening of exclamation marks. I felt dizzy, like I was going to pass out, so I sat down with my head between my knees and hot, excited tears running down my face. J was, as always practical, making lists of things we'd need to buy, tasks we'd need to complete and food I could no longer eat.
We were going to be parents.
After only three months of trying, panic started to flood into me as I realised the enormity of the task ahead, like signing up for a marathon and turning up on race day realising that the quick jog around the park was not even a fraction of what you'd let yourself in for.
Child birth - I kept thinking that in nine months time I was going to have to suffer through excruciating pain, the likes of which I could only deduce from numerous tv dramas, which all seemed to involve a large amount of screaming, puffing and blood. A little voice in my head reminded me that a woman is closest to death when she is in labour, struggling to remove something the size of a watermelon through an exit the size of a coin.
I went to bed that night under no illusions that sleep would come. Lying in the dark, listening to J's soft breathing, I imagined the cells of the baby forming together, multiplying and joining, creating a whole new person inside my womb. The shock, the overwhelming sense of surprise gave me butterflies in my tummy that will become proper little kicks in months to come. I laid awake in awe.
The next morning I dropped J off at the station. He kissed me goodbye and said 'Goodbye Peanut' as he shut the car door.
Peanut.
As soon as I heard the word, this nickname suddenly gave the little cluster of cells and DNA inside me a personality. Peanut was small, cute and fragile. Peanut needed protection and nourishment. A surge of maternal instincts washed over me as I drove home. Peanut was mine and J's child and we would do everything in our power to help it grow and stay safe.
Telling people over the next week was both joyous, awkward and surprising. Most people reacted with the same sense of jubilation that I was harbouring. Some were not so kind, and some I would have preferred not to tell at all. But the news was so wanted - this baby is so wanted - that I just found it too hard to keep to myself.
I'm pregnant!
I want to shout it out from the rooftops!
There is such a long way to go and Peanut is so tiny (about the size of a sesame seed right now) but I'll try to do my best to keep Peanut safe.
The overwhelming feeling of love I have for this tiny person is both exhilarating and exhausting!
A little plastic stick in my hand told me that I was pregnant, that I would be expecting my first child.
I rushed downstairs to show J.
"We're going to have a baby!" I gasped.
"Really?!" his face mirrored my own emotions - a combination of disbelief, tentative joy and that feeling you get when you're holding something very, very fragile, like a butterfly or sugar glass. "Let me see." I handed him the pregnancy test. "Eurgh it's got your wee on it..." he muttered, holding it up to his face.
But the evidence was there. Two strong red lines, the strength and rapidity of which we hoped would be a reflection of the tiny life growing inside me.
What followed was an evening of exclamation marks. I felt dizzy, like I was going to pass out, so I sat down with my head between my knees and hot, excited tears running down my face. J was, as always practical, making lists of things we'd need to buy, tasks we'd need to complete and food I could no longer eat.
We were going to be parents.
After only three months of trying, panic started to flood into me as I realised the enormity of the task ahead, like signing up for a marathon and turning up on race day realising that the quick jog around the park was not even a fraction of what you'd let yourself in for.
Child birth - I kept thinking that in nine months time I was going to have to suffer through excruciating pain, the likes of which I could only deduce from numerous tv dramas, which all seemed to involve a large amount of screaming, puffing and blood. A little voice in my head reminded me that a woman is closest to death when she is in labour, struggling to remove something the size of a watermelon through an exit the size of a coin.
I went to bed that night under no illusions that sleep would come. Lying in the dark, listening to J's soft breathing, I imagined the cells of the baby forming together, multiplying and joining, creating a whole new person inside my womb. The shock, the overwhelming sense of surprise gave me butterflies in my tummy that will become proper little kicks in months to come. I laid awake in awe.
The next morning I dropped J off at the station. He kissed me goodbye and said 'Goodbye Peanut' as he shut the car door.
Peanut.
As soon as I heard the word, this nickname suddenly gave the little cluster of cells and DNA inside me a personality. Peanut was small, cute and fragile. Peanut needed protection and nourishment. A surge of maternal instincts washed over me as I drove home. Peanut was mine and J's child and we would do everything in our power to help it grow and stay safe.
Telling people over the next week was both joyous, awkward and surprising. Most people reacted with the same sense of jubilation that I was harbouring. Some were not so kind, and some I would have preferred not to tell at all. But the news was so wanted - this baby is so wanted - that I just found it too hard to keep to myself.
I'm pregnant!
I want to shout it out from the rooftops!
There is such a long way to go and Peanut is so tiny (about the size of a sesame seed right now) but I'll try to do my best to keep Peanut safe.
The overwhelming feeling of love I have for this tiny person is both exhilarating and exhausting!
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