Apologies For My Absence

So, I've been out of action for some time now! Sorry. I'm now 16 weeks pregnant, and I hate to admit that I'm not having the best time. I've felt generally rubbish throughout, and have struggled to find the time to write at all. But I'd like to give you all an update on my pregnancy so far. 

I seem to be suffering far more, and much earlier on than I ever did with the other 3. In fact, for a long while Mr P and I were convinced I'd got more than one baby in there! Everything just seemed amplified, from my constant nausea to my huge bump. We were certain that the scan would either reveal a multiple pregnancy, or that I was in fact much further along than we thought. 

The scan date arrived, and I have to say, I deflated slightly when the sonographer found just the one baby. This feeling soon lifted when I saw the little flicker of baby's heartbeat on the screen. How could I possibly be disappointed with the little miracle growing inside me? And in the grand scheme of things, twins would be more than a handful on top of the 3 I've already got! 

I can't say I'm looking forward to the weeks ahead. At 16 weeks I'm already struggling with the headache from hell, my legs are riddled with painful varicose veins, the phlebitis in my left ankle is a burning mess, and my hips are starting to ache at night. All symptoms I've experienced in previous pregnancies, but never this early on. And I'm sure there's more to come with the odd bout of heartburn, a bit more nausea, baby jabbing me in the ribs. 

But would I change a thing? Absolutely not! I may not particularly enjoy the whole pregnancy process, but just look at the end result! All the aches and pains and moans and gripes are totally worth it in the end. 

My Not So Secret Secret

So, last week I found out I'm pregnant. Unexpected but thrilled to be adding to our brood. We told all the important people; parents, siblings and close friends, and decided that would be it until the first scan. 

Well, I'm clearly rubbish at keeping secrets! It just keeps falling out of my mouth. I'll be having a conversation with another mum on the school yard and blurt out that I'm having a baby. So many people know that I've now forgotten who I've told and who I haven't. I swear I need my mouth taping shut (which could also help me to stop filling my face with food! I just cannot stop eating!!)

Someone asked me the other day what I'll do with myself when my youngest starts nursery in September and instead of just coming up with a general 'oh, I'm sure I'll find something to occupy me' I said 'that won't be a problem come January once the new baby's born'. I'm so excited about it, I just can't help myself! 

Then there's my old work friend. She has a nearly 1 year old and is about 10 weeks pregnant with her second. When she told me about it I'd said that we were planning on trying next year. She told me to pull my finger out because she wanted a bump buddy. So of course I had to tell her that she'd got her own way! 

I'd arranged to have gossip over a bottle of wine with one of the school mums and when she text me to ask when we were doing it I told her she might have to wait 9 months or so. Technically, I didn't tell her, she guessed! But still, another one to add to the tally! 

Mr P on the other hand has been excellent at keeping the secret. He puts me to shame! I wish I knew how he did it. I just have zero control over my mouth. I even told the lady who runs the cafe I regularly drink at. I can't even explain that one. We weren't even having a conversation that could have led to me revealing my pregnancy. I think my husband needs to give me lessons on keeping quiet! 

I'm Pregnant!!!

Well here's a blog I wasn't planning on writing for at least another year! If you've read my introductory blog you'll know that Mr P and I have 5 children between us. We found out yesterday that I'm expecting number 6! 

Our youngest is coming up for 3 in June, and we'd decided that we wanted another baby, but not until he was in full time school. So September 2014. That meant we would start trying to conceive in January next year. Well, since making that decision, we've perhaps not been as careful as we had been previously. Ok, there's no perhaps about it. That pink line on the home pregnancy test shows we definitely haven't been very careful. We're both a little bit shocked if I'm honest, but thrilled all the same. 

I don't know why I'm so shocked. We've never really had to try to fall pregnant. My first baby was conceived the month after finishing on the depo provera injection. I'd come off it so that it was out of my system by the time we got married 3 months later and we'd be ready to start trying for a baby straight away. Apparently I didn't need that long for my body to find its rhythm again! Then my daughter was conceived when my son was just 6 months old, again without really thinking about it. Then I was pregnant with my other son by the time my daughter was 6 months old. That whole 'breastfeeding acts as a natural method of contraception' is a myth! So the fact that I have fallen pregnant again without really trying shouldn't come as such a surprise.

I sat here yesterday, a day after my period was due, with a gut feeling that I was expecting. But I didn't want to allow myself to think it in case I was setting myself up for disappointment. The only thing I had to go on was my absent period. And then I noticed the distinct blue-black bulging veins in my ankle. I'd first had them when I was pregnant with my daughter, and then again with my son. That's how I knew I was expecting him. I'd not had any periods since my daughter was born, and when I saw my ankle was bad again I just knew that was the reason. The same happened yesterday. The penny dropped, so to speak. 

I told Mr P and he insisted I took a test. I wanted to leave it a few days in case my body was throwing a wobbly. I hate the disappointment of seeing a negative pregnancy test, and although deep down I knew it wouldn't be negative, I didn't want to risk it. He won in the end though. He convinced me to test. I did what I had to do then handed him the test and he closed the bathroom door on me. When it flung open again not 30 seconds later I just knew it was positive. I didn't even need to see the emotional grin on his face to work that out! 

We are both over the moon. Ok, so it's earlier than we had planned. I didn't want to be doing 3 school runs a day with a new born in tow, but it's not the end of the world. I'm a firm believer of what will be will be. Obviously it's very early days, so it wont be public knowledge for some time, but seeing as very few of you know my true identity I thought this was a nice way to document it. 

A Difficult Beginning (part one)

I'd like to take the time to share the story of my second pregnancy, without a doubt the most difficult time in my whole life. 

My son was just 6 months old when we discovered I was expecting our second child. It was our first wedding anniversary and we were on holiday with my mum, dad and little sister. My parents had offered to stay at the lodge with the children (our baby, plus my two step daughters) so my husband and I could go out for a meal to celebrate. I'd been feeling off it for a couple of days and, although my period wasn't due for another day or so, I decided to take a pregnancy test before I went out and enjoyed a few glasses of wine. Good job I did! I remember it well. We drove to the local supermarket under the pretence of getting supplies for the lodge and I did the test there and then, in the toilets of the supermarket. We were overjoyed to be having another baby, even if it was a little sooner than we had planned. 

The first 12 weeks went by as you'd expect. A bit of sickness, plenty of tiredness, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then at the dating scan, the sonographer seemed to be taking ages. Then she asked me if I'd had a positive pregnancy test. Tears instantly rolled down my cheeks while she went off to fine someone more senior. Had I just imagined all my symptoms? Where was my baby? Luckily the person she brought in to double check found it. My tiny little bean, heartbeat flickering away on the screen. Relief! 

Fast forward to the 20 week scan. November 11th 2008, the day my world fell apart. The sonographer taking the baby's measurements asked if my waters had gone at all. Of course, they hadn't. I'm pretty sure I'd have noticed if they had. She disappeared to find the consultant on duty. They returned a short while later and the consultant repeated everything the sonographer had done. The baby, our daughter as we'd found out by this point, looked fine, growing well, heartbeat strong. But she had very little amniotic fluid surrounding her. 

My husband and I were a bit lost by this point. What did it all mean? We were asked to wait until the consultant had finished her clinic and she would sit with us and go through everything with us. I made a quick phone call to the nursery where my son was and we sat and waited. And waited. It seemed to take forever. In fact it was only about half an hour, but it was the longest half hour ever! 

When the consultant called us in, she explained that we had a condition called oligohydramnios. Not enough fluid surrounding the baby. Apparently this can be caused by a number of things. One cause is a problem with the baby's kidneys, which all looked fine on the scan, so the consultant was confident this was not our problem. She mentioned a couple of other things, but what she suspected the most was that my waters had ruptured (I was sure they hadn't). 

The prognosis wasn't great. Figures like 80-90% fetal mortality in cases diagnosed early were being thrown at us. As there was no way to determine when my waters had gone, or indeed if there were any there to begin with, there was no way of knowing how developed my baby's lungs would be. The amniotic fluid is vital for the development of the lungs up to 22 weeks gestation. We were told that while she was still in utero, all would be fine. She would appear strong and healthy. The problems would arise after her birth. If her lungs were not fully developed, she'd have a slim chance of survival once she had to breathe for herself. We were told that 'many couples would choose to terminate at this stage'. I didn't understand. My baby had a chance of being born fine, not the best chance, but a chance all the same. Why would I even consider that option! There was no questioning it, my pregnancy would continue. 

We left the hospital at 6.30pm, from our 3.00pm appointment. We were emotionally drained. And we faced a very long 20 weeks ahead of us. 20 weeks of being scanned and poked and prodded by various different specialists. At 28 weeks I had a leak. I lost fluid, what little I had of it. From this point on I had to have twice weekly blood tests to check for infections plus a weekly speculum examination. My arms were battered and bruised. It became second nature to have a midwife looking up my lady bits! All this, as well as my fortnightly scan. It's a good job we lived opposite the hospital! 

Then at nearly 37 weeks we had our latest scan with our consultant and she decided that the baby was ready to be born. She was breech, and with all the other complications, they wouldn't try and turn her. Nor would they let me attempt a natural delivery. My worst fear. A cesarean section. She booked us in for the following day. That night was tough. For the last 16 weeks, I had been dreading the day my daughter had to be born. While she was inside me, I was taking care of her, she had all she needed. Giving birth could mean losing her. But I couldn't keep her inside me forever. 

The cesarean went well. My baby girl was born at 36+6 weeks, only one day before she would be classed as full term. The paediatric doctors were on standby, although it seemed they wouldn't be needed. In the recovery room, Mr P sat by me, holding our baby girl. All seemed well, apart from the little clucking noise she was making, apparently common in cesarean born babies. Within half an hour we were back on the maternity ward, baby girl included. But it wasn't over yet... 

Keep your eyes peeled for part two...