Thursday, 30 September 2010

Dear Morning Sickness,

I'd forgotten how much of a cursed blessing you are. I love you, because feeling so crummy makes me think that baby must be doing alright. And I hate you, because I feel sick as a dog most of the time and cannot bear to even be near my favourite foods at the moment.
You arrived right on time, just one day before the 6 weeks mark. First you disguised yourself as a little queasiness, but soon you lifted the cloak and revealed yourself in all your full glory. You also brought your friend, Fatigue, along which I'm sure was done only with the best intentions. However dealing with both of you can be a bit much sometimes.
So glad as I was to see you arrive, I will also be counting the days to your departure. Last time you were kind enough to leave on time, right around twelve weeks, and I hope you will do the same this time. The Christmas marketing is already in full rage and it would be nice to be able to enjoy a few Christmas treats without my stomach churning at the sight of them!

Thursday, 23 September 2010


The good thing about finding out you're pregnant is... that you're already give or take 4 weeks when you find out! You've already put one month behind you.
But then the waiting game begins.
I can't say I'm any more relaxed this time than I was with Teddy - I'm still a bundle of nerves waiting to get out of the first trimester. And it seems to stretch sooo long. I won't even see a midwife for another two weeks or so; and the first scan will be the NT and dating scan at 12 weeks. I find it very hard to just trust that everything's ok and baby is developing as it should (maybe that's why I keep taking pregnancy tests?). Much as I hated the nausea and morning sickness I experienced during my last pregnancy, I also found it very reassuring as this was a tangible proof that I was still pregnant. So in a way I can't wait to feel sick, although in a few weeks time I'll probably wish I'd never said this! At the moment I feel hungry all the time, I'm absolutely ravenous and could eat all day long. I definitely didn't have this last time!
It's starting to sink in a bit more that I'm pregnant, though it still feels slightly unreal without any symptoms. I have told two people IRL; my best oldest friend who lives far away and my best mummy friend. M was furious with me for telling as I'd instructed him not to tell anyone - but oh well! I feel as I'm the one who's more concerned at the moment it's fair enough. Plus, his best mate only told him his wife was pregnant when she was 12 weeks along, so I think it's fair enough if he doesn't tell him now.
We have planned our trip to see my family for mid-late October, so I think we will tell them then, and M's parents when we come back - I will be 9-10 weeks then, which sounds safe enough. I'm hoping that by then I'll have seen my midwife and at least heard the heartbeat on the doppler.
Sometimes when I look at Teddy it makes me sad that I'm pregnant - he is still so much my baby, but I guess that will never change. I feel like I'm taking something away from him, which is stupid as he will gain a sibling. Ans so many people have told me that the love doesn't halve, it just doubles. But it's hard to believe at the moment. He's also in such a Mummy-phase right now - being very clingy and just wanting me, not Daddy, all the time. I'm a bit anxious about what it will be like with a newborn baby and a demanding toddler, especially as the nightmare of the early days is still so vivid in my memory - I really hope it will be easier this time!

Thursday, 16 September 2010

(Good) News

It's been a while... and lots has happened.
My dad really is on the mend now. They've moved him to a regular ward now, he's not connected to any machines anymore and he can now eat, talk and walk again (in moderation). I am beyond relieved. When I was there to see him, he was in a coma and it was the hardest thing I have ever been through, to see him like that. He looked barely human, more like a tranquilised animal, with all those wires and tubes going in and out everywhere and machines beeping and hissing. It was awful and I was so glad to have Teddy with me to help me through it and cheer me up. I can't believe that now, only one and a half week later he is already so much better. The doctors are very optimistic now but have also said that when he was admitted, they didn't think my dad would make it. I am so glad he did and that he's recovering, even though it will take a long while for him to get back to normal.
in other news, my combat plan for this cycle has worked out - I'm pregnant! I can't believe I'm writing this, it still feels weird. I took the first test last Wednesday at 9DPO. It was a very, very, very faint line - so faint that I thought I'd only imagined it. Of course that didn't stop me from POAS again the next day. Again I thought if I can only see it in a certain light against a white backdrop, it doesn't count; so I went off to work in a bad mood. Later when I came home, because I'd been thinking about that maybe-line so much, I fished the test out of the bin and looked again -now I could see the faint line qutie clearly. But then of course the 10 minutes were long up, and it said on the package "do not read after 30 minutes"! But I had hope again.
When I tested on Friday, the faint line came up a lot quicker, and was a lot less faint. I showed it to M, who said "yes but that doesn't mean you're pregnant, does it? I thought it was supposed to be a vivid dark line!" Even though I tried to convince him that any sort of line means a positive, he didn't want to believe it. So on Saturday, when I got a yet stronger second line I also did a digital test - and I could wave the word "pregnant" in M's face!
It still feels strange though. Here I am, having obsessed about TTC and getting pregnant for so long, and now that it's become real it feels --well, unreal. I still can't quite believe it myself. Even though this time, I can "feel" things a lot more, which makes it even stranger. apart from the tender bbs, I can also feel my uterus - it's sort of a buzzing, tingling feel - so that I'm really aware of it all day. It's like a constant, soundless humming that radiates from my womb.
The other thing that took me by surprise is the appearance of The Bump. Seriously I knew that you show a lot sooner second time around, but THIS early? I guess it must be down to bloating (although I don't feel bloated) or something else, but it is definitely there.
Well, tomorrow I'll go and see my Dr to register I'm pregnant. Nothing to get excited about - unlike in the US (from what I've read!), over here they don't take any tests at that visit, not even a pregancy test, as they say the HPTs are just as reliable as theirs. So no bloodwork, no scheduling an early ultrasound, no nothing. Which yes, is a bit disappointing. It's so hard to wait for 12-13 weeks until you get the first scan, especially for people like me who worry about everything that's there and everything that isn't. I will probably be seen by the midwife earlier than that, but then she doesn't do much apart from taking down the medical history.
The one thing I want to do tomorrow though is ask if I could have a different midwife. In this region you get a community midwife who is responsible for a certain area and linked to several doctors' surgeries. Truth be told the midwife for this area is awful - she has no interest in the women she attends to, nor their babies, nor the questions they might ask (at first I thought it was only me, but upon meeting other women after having given birth I realised we all felt that way). So I don't know if anything can be done apart from me switching to a different doctor's surgery, but we'll see.

Thursday, 2 September 2010

Bad News

Remember when I talked about how bad things come in threes, and I didn't want to know what the next thing was going to be?
My dad fell ill. Like, really ill. He was taken to hospital with what everyone thought was a bad stomach bug, and it turned out to be pancreatitis - something I didn't even know could be lethal. Unfortunately it is. Basically it means the pancreas is starting to digest itself and it can also attack other organs. As the cause is unknown (sometimes it can be caused by gall stones, where they can then just remove the gall bladder) there is nothing the doctors can do for my dad apart from keeping him hydrated, giving him antibiotics to prevent other infections, giving him plenty of painkillers (he's now got an epidural) and keeping him monitored. They have talked about putting him in an artificial coma, which scares the hell out of me. He has already got difficulties breathing but doesn't like to wear the oxygen mask.
What scares me even more is that he is already planning his funeral and trying to sort out what to do with his belongings.
It all happened so quickly that I feel it hasn't really registered with me yet. I don't WANT to think about my dad dying. It just can't be. Hearing my stoical, unemotional brother cry on the phone because he thinks my dad's not going to make it just seems unreal.
So now I'm trying to sort out my flights to come up and see him. Part of me doesn't want to. Part of me keeps thinking of stupid excuses why this really is the most inconvenient time to fly up. I think I don't want to see him because then it becomes real. At the moment I can still think of it as this abstract weird thing that happened; but then it will be my dad dying in front of my eyes, plugged into all sorts of machines, barely able to breathe or talk. And I just don't want to face it.
Of course I will do it though and I will get my flights booked tonight. I'm going to have to take Teddy with me as M has got to work - he's just had that week in Paris and even though he worked then, his regular customers will probably need him now after a week of absence here. Teddy's not been on a plane before and it probably won't be much fun for him; all he wants to do is run around and it will be hard to restrain him on the plane and at the airport. But thankfully it's only a short flight. I don't even know if he will be allowed to see my dad - do they allow children in the intensive care unit? I hope that Teddy can see him at least briefly.

This is a nightmare. I have never lost anyone before; not anyone close anyway. I really don't know how to handle this. While I still hope that things might turn around and he'll pull though (he has a fifty-fifty chance) I can't stop thinking that my Daddy might die.