3/17/2017

Pregnancy - It's Just not What I Imagined

Being pregnant is meant to be an amazing time in your lifetime. I thought it was going to a walk in a park, I was going to take maternity full of brunches, laughter, and the gorgeous pregnancy glow. I shall just take a minute and laugh about that now. 


Little man has recently turned one and that got me thinking about my pregnancy. I started blogging whilst pregnant and I realized I haven't really gone into any details about those 9 months of my life. They were the worst months of my life, they were hard, I wanted to give up and I cried near on every day. 

Just to pre-warn you, this is going to be a long post so grab a cuppa or a wine! It's also a personal choice I don't want little mans face on my blog, so it may look weird but his face is blurred out!

I felt bitter that bloggers I class as good friends seemed to breeze through the 9 months unscathed. Thinking back as a blogger you decide what you share so they might be going through shit and just didn't want to air it. Just like me.

So why am I sharing this now? I have no idea if I am honest. Looking at K's face beaming when we held an early birthday party made up for everything I went through in those 9 months. 

Let's start at the beginning. I found out we were expecting early on. Morning sickness reared its ugly head early and never left. I'm not talking the eat a ginger biscuit and feel slightly better like the doctor first suggested as that apparently helps. I'm talking full on crying as I feel so hungry and nothing is staying down. Good old hyperemesis gravidarum the gift that keeps on giving. I ended up being signed off work and on medication as I was at risk of dehydration. Well, there went those brunches I was once dreaming of. I ended pregnancy lighter than when I started so all throughout I had to be monitored. Fun. 

We had a scan very early on for the worst imaginable reason. I was at work and got a sharp cramp pain in my belly, went to the toilet and there was blood everywhere. Cue the epic breakdown of I can say why but I have to leave and go to the hospital now! Mr. B, pick me up and we rushed up the motorway to the hospital, we were told to go to A&E. I forget the doctor's name, but I will never forget being sat in the cubical with him and Mr. B There was a woman behind the curtain who was waiting to be seen too who could hear every word. The worst words a parent could hear. 'I'm so sorry, it's pretty clear you've had a miscarriage'. Time stood still right then, I know Mr. B was asking some sort of questions, they haven't even examined me how could they be so cruel to say that. The drive home was pretty much silent. We ordered an Indian as we hadn't eaten and then I had to text my boss. ' I need tomorrow off for an urgent hospital appointment'. 

The next day left me with even more questions than answers. I had the internal scan. Mr. B was holding my hand and he was staring at me. I still don't know how to come to terms with what happened over the next two weeks. The sonographer turned the screen to us, I didn't want to look but I had too. Something was still there. She showed us our little baby was still there, but. My heart sank again, there was a but. She didn't know if little man was alive and growing. There were brief discussions of losing a second child but it was never in depth. It was just focusing on something has survived but is it going to develop. 

We had a holiday booked down in Brixham in August 2016. We went as we planned as we just needed to escape. Me and Mr. B. We still didn't know if K was growing, it was the weirdest holiday we have ever been on. We would talk about this might be our last summer holiday as two, but then that lead to the worse. It might not be our last and a couple. It was a strange time. 

Two weeks passed and we went back up to the hospital, hands shaking more tears, I just wasn't prepared to be told he wasn't there. Again. I could literally hear my heartbeat over what the sonographer was saying, I don't know what exactly was said. I was just looking at Mr. B. His face lit up, he was smiling and kissing my hand. It was good news. I can't even describe how I felt. We went home talking about how in 7 months times we would have a baby! In the back of our minds, we always are thinking is K a twin? We never asked any more questions about that, we were just focusing on the one there.
Ooo what should I go onto next? Ah yes, how can I forget my depression and anxiety decided to make an epic return, Well it's never really left but shit got real with that. I was so scared to tell my midwife I kept quiet for a while. I mean, I even lied when they have to ask you those questions of 'have you been feeling down or depressed in the last month'. I thought if I said a word that was it, social services would be straight round, they would take my little boy and deem me an unfit mother. I couldn't have got that more wrong. There is a huge support network out there, you are brave enough to speak up. Mr. B and I made the decision I should go on antidepressants, this was the most difficult decision we have ever had to make as a couple. We spoke to doctors and listen to the side effects. I know people will not agree with taken medication whilst pregnant. Especially when we were told there is a chance little man would be born with withdrawal symptoms, it was hard but at the time we knew it was for the best. If I had to make that decision again I would with no hesitation. The path I was going down wasn't good for anyone. Cognitive behavioral therapy. It has made such a huge difference in my life, and now I am off the tablets. I still struggle with my anxiety but everything is getting better. 

During my pregnancy, I am pretty sure I had enough anti-D to fund the supplier. I have O- blood and was offered the chance to check the babies blood type as my Mr. B has a positive blood type. Typical. It was a simple blood test and it came back positive so we had to make sure our blood didn't mix as it could cause problems. So any bump to the tummy I had to get the Anti-D injection. Then came the slip on the ice whilst rushing to get to work. Later on came the little car crash nothing major but of course the seat belt performed as it should and tightened straight across the bump. Back up to the hospital for more injections. 

About 3 months into my pregnancy I was led down and all of a sudden I had the worse pain at the top of my bump. I felt hot, sick and sweaty. It was one of the worst pains I have ever felt in my life. I have never really experienced heartburn so I just presumed it was that. The pain just went away after an hour or so. I was so confused. Boy was I wrong. It happened again later on but this time it felt worse somehow. It got to the point of Mr. B asking if I was in labour it was that bad, I just couldn't explain it so he took me to the hospital. They did the standard checks and asked the questions. I was hooked up to the machines and after a while, the pain went and I was discharged. A few weeks later I was back up there again with the same pain, I didn't understand what was going on. I was even asked by a doctor if these pains only ever happened when I was feeling down. No, just no. I'm in agony why won't you listen. After a few more trips I still had no answers. I was only really listened to when Mr. B rushed me up to the hospital in the winter when it was freezing cold. I was so hot I was screaming at him to unwind the windows. Pretty sure his knees were chattering as he drove up the motorway near on midnight. We arrived at the hospital and he ran around and open my door, I collapsed out and was on the floor. I don't remember an awful lot after that, but that is what got the doctor's attentions. Turns out I had enough gallstones to create a pebble beach and they were getting stuck basically. That was causing the pain. The pain suddenly stopped when the were 'unstuck'. I had to have surgery under general anesthetic once I had little man. 

In the last trimester I started to get SPD and ended up needing crutches, I was waiting for physio and when my appointment came it was a group session and my anxiety kicked it. It was a never ending cycle of shit. I was really struggling to cope I was unable to live my life or enjoy my pregnancy. I was only allowed to return to work after my HG on restricted hours of 2-3 days a week, and with the SPD kicking in even those few hours a week were tough. We lived in a one bed place at the time with our bedroom being the whole top floor. Trying to get up and down those stairs would leave me in tears. Especially at night where I would be on the verge of peeing myself as I just couldn't get down the stairs. 

Finally, we have the lack of movement. I don't know if it is because I'm a big girl I couldn't feel it or something else. From around the end of December to when he was born in March I had to go up to the hospital for daily monitoring. I used to feel him moving around non-stop especially to certain things. I have a little NWA fan but nothing was working. The first time I couldn't feel him move I called the ward and followed their advice. I led on my side for 2 hours, I drank the cold fizzy drink and nothing. Just nothing. I went in for monitoring and could feel him move once when he basically did a 360 turn. That's it. 

I ended up being induced as I couldn't monitor his movements. I was induced in my 36th week and little man arrived dead on 37 weeks. He was a little small but not too small or prem. It turns out he stopped growing and it was lucky he arrived when he did.

It's hard to grasp the months of anticipation were nothing like I had dreamt they would be. I was never one of dreaming of marriage and babies at a young age so once I found out I was pregnant all these dreams filled my head.

The light at the end of the tunnel is a beautiful new life and even though pregnancy is nothing like I imagined, nothing thrown at me could get in way of the love I have for my tiny human!