Christmas Vomit and a Wriggly Baby

It's been Christmas time! No eagerly anticipated phone calls but quite a lot has happened since the last post. We had our 20 week scan on 15 December. It was amazing to see all the bits and pieces of our baby. We saw its alien face, its heart, the compartments of the heart, bladder and kidneys (which are working nicely), the pelvis, thigh bone, two little thumping feet and best of all the wave of a bony hand. But we didn't find out the gender. The sonographer was an absolute witch. She got my back up right away by starting the consultation by saying 'so what can I do for you then?'. Grrr

'Just a short back and sides today I think, Blackadder'. Or maybe my 20 WEEK SCAN. FFS.

So I admit I went into stroppy teenage mode and said 'I don't know' and it just got worse from there. Got to love a medical professional with no bedside manner. Silly moo.
D can now feel the baby! I learned at the scan that my placenta is in an anterior position, so at the front of my uterus. This is probably why it took me so long to feel the baby. The upside is that it wasn't too much longer before the movements were big enough to be felt from the outside. The bigger movements he can feel with his hands. But his preferred method is to 'listen' to the baby. So I've had him semi-permanently clamped by the ear to my belly. But of course I don't mind. The baby seems to like it too as he definitely moves more when D's listening.

The continuing saga of the 'Extreme Snow' pretty much blighted the run up to Christmas. Christmas shopping involved risking life and limbs at the shops or hanging around your front window, biting your nails wondering if your Amazon order was going to turn up on time. Of course it all turned out okay in the end.

Christmas was pretty quiet. The family dropped around for a while which was lovely but not long after they'd gone I started to feel pretty unwell. By 8pm I was vomiting legendary amounts. As usual with sickness bugs, I felt amazing for the next 2 hours before the build up to the next bout began. Luckily I was sick just once more at midnight. I'm a dab hand at puking these days so that didn't bother me nearly as much as it would have done a year ago. But I did worry about the effect on the baby and I had no appetite and no energy for a few days. That's what I get for assuring Dro on Christmas morning that I was 'done with vomiting'.

We are beginning to accumulate baby stuff now. D bought the baby a Christmas present of a wee outfit. Awwww. And C has given us lots of clothes I need to go through. I met H for lunch today and she said I could go round one evening and have my pick of some things she's happy to give away so I'm really excited about that. Don't suppose she has an oceanic plane mobile though.

Yesterday I was at the midwife and I continue to be normal. My belly is the right size. My blood pressure is perfect. There is nothing suspect in my wee. I heard the heart beat again too. I also got the MATB1 form that means my work has to be super good to me and treat me like a princess.

Today I bought some quite expensive wool to make a small blanket. This is as much as my crocheting skills will allow and even then I am really pushing it. No mummy made booties for this child :( I will update on progress or lack thereof.
In other developments:

• We bought a LUDICROUSLY huge Christmas tree on line by mistake. It's supposed to be 6 foot tall but is, in fact, more like 6 foot wide. If we already had the baby, we could lose it for days in there.
  
• The perception of time when sober at the work Christmas lunch might be (is) different than the time experienced when drunk at the work Christmas lunch.
  
• my weight today is 9 stone and 12.25 pounds. This is still 11.25 pounds less than my pre-weightwatchers weight in 2008. Just love watching the scales edge up the way again after all that hard work.

Can you feel it?

We are fed up of icy weather. Most of the snow melted on Friday but there so much ice left on the pavements out of town that I still can't walk to work. I need exercise and I'm going mad. I'm sick of the bus. Literally. Two days last week I've been very near to vomiting on Edinburgh's historic Royal Mile on the way to work. I've had to spit up some 'pre-vomit saliva' in various closes on the way down the road. Hahahahaha - nice. If I have to live it, you have to know about it. But no actual vomit for 15 days and counting.

We got most of our Christmas shopping done on Saturday and bought some maternity clothes for me. This is good because I've been reduced to wearing my stretchier dresses to work. They were pretty short to begin with and, with a bump using up more fabric than usual, they are now very close to indecent - more appropriate for a tropical island than sub-arctic Edinburgh. Still, I aim to be one of those irritating women who stay thin except for the bump. So long live the short dress wearing!

On Friday I felt the baby move for the first time. D is jealous and says 'You get all the good stuff'. At first of course I wasn't sure what I was feeling. It's a bit like a bubble bursting under your skin, or like a tiny muscle spasm.

On Wednesday we go for our 20 week scan which is pretty exciting. If it all goes well then, we have to assume the baby is fine. Now I just need to worry about it being ugly. I was being teased at work about how many ugly babies there are. And how some have cone shaped heads because they've been suctioned out. Was totally traumatised. Today someone mentioned the words 'facial birth marks'.

Although I'd quite like to know if the baby is a boy or a girl, D isn't keen so we are going to wait. We'll know soon enough I suppose.

Finally in a week without much to say, I'm 9st, 11.5 pounds. I am getting really quite big.

"We're stuck in a bloody snow globe!"

There has been thick snow on the ground for 8 days now. The most snow there has been in Edinburgh for 50 years. There must be 30-40cm lying outside which is A LOT for us. We think 5cm is something to spend every waking minute thinking about. There was a good deal of snow last weekend and I had a stinking cold and was not impressed that I couldn't go out and play in it. On Sunday night it snowed the biggest amount and I had to venture out to work on Monday. I have never seen so much of the stuff in suburbia. I ended up walking the nearly 3 miles to work and it was lots of fun but took 80minutes when it usually takes 50. And I was absolutely exhausted afterwards.

That first day wasn't dangerous underfoot because it was all fresh snow. The biggest risk was not knowing where the kerb was under it all. But in the days after, as it got trampled down, I started to get seriously worried about Squirrel Baby. D had to walk me home from the shops on Tuesday and met me outside work on Wednesday. I'm convinced I'm going to fall getting to or from work. AND because of my funny blood, if I fall and don't manage to damage SB, then I still have to have an injection in case there's any bleeding inside.

Once at work, there was still no respite from the snow. I was dealing with its consequences all day every day I was in. Writing messages for staff about the snow and whether they were allowed time off for not getting in, thanking those who did get in etc etc.

I was off work on Thurs and Fri luckily. Usually those days off are for Christmas shopping or getting deliveries. But none of my deliveries turned up. I got a serious case of cabin fever.

So we ventured out today into town. I got stud things for my shoes and then we headed to Brunstfield and had lunch there. (Weight today - 9st, 9.5 pounds) As a treat, I had my first full fat, full caffeine cola since 23 August (sorry SB). It was out a bottle and not draft and the best thing I have ever tasted. Then we walked home. It took twice as long as usual. Another 80 min walk. But that's what I need. SB needs fresh air and exercise and so do I. It was freeeeezing and we counted and named at least 6 different types of snow. Most prevalent - sand snow and falsandsnow (snow that looks like sand snow, and you think you'll sink into it but you don't - hehehehehe). Yup - we are chumps.

So I have a week of fear and trepidation ahead of me. Colleagues are fed up of me whining on about it because, baby or no, no one wants to risk limbs just trying to get to work. Normally in Edinburgh, it snows for two days max, then it rains and it all melts. Not this time folks. We have 12 more days of freeeeezing weather forecast. My sinuses have taken against me and my head hurts, and more recently my teeth. C has emailed me to say 'YOU SHOULD NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE FOR 2 WEEKS BECAUSE YOU ARE PREGNANT AND ESPECIALLY BECAUSE YOU ARE RHESUS NEGATIVE'. Arrghhhh. The roads and pavements are only going to get worse. Soon there will be 'cobbled' ice everywhere. I'm doomed. DOOMED.

Preggy Lady Flu

Urgh - got the lurgie this week. It's all snowy outside so I'm definitely confined to the house all weekend. Am being a moany nightmare. Can't remember the last time I got through a cold without lemsip but am determined to go drug free. And I need to keep my caffeine rationing for chocolate. Was relying on Olbas oil until a Google search put me off using that too. Is NOTHING safe?

On 17 November, I heard the baby's heartbeat. It sounded like a train. I'd put on 1 kilo since my booking in appointment on 27 September. Although midwife says they don't pay too much attention to weight these days as it's a fairly meaningless indicator of health. I guess unless you are overweight, they just leave you to it. And I don't really do kilos - I think it's a couple of pounds. Today I am 9 stone, 9.5 pounds.

Also at the midwife I found out that my blood type is A-. Which only 7% of people in the UK have. The rhesus negative status means I need an injection of some blood product to make sure my body doesn't reject baby number 2. My brain might reject the notion of baby number 2 before it gets that far.

So I was a bit obsessed with blood for a few days. I haven't ever given blood so am feeling a bit guilty. I will do as soon as I'm allowed.


I'm now into the 19th week and am supposed to be able to feel the baby from any time now. Nothing so far. It's supposed to feel like wind bubbles. Lovely.

(The vomiting continues - three times in a week, but not going to dwell on it any further. Well not much.)

I have a bump now. It's at the point where people might as well have an 'is she?' speech bubble above their heads. It's definitely still at the stage where most people don't ask. But someone from another department called my office to ask after a fleeting glance at me. Can't wait until it's really obvious.


Is she or isn't she?

Intermittent Regurgitation

I can't wait until I have something more meaningful than vomit to discuss here. In reality, it's still the dominant theme. Still, it's only every week or so now (although I feel nauseous every day). Since my last post, I've been unlucky on 29 October which was after a gap of 15 days. I put that down to being in work at 7.15am and had decided that it was only a blip. But unfortunately I was sick again this morning (and that was after a very close call outside the butcher's yesterday morning). Had to leap out of the shower all soapy (today - not yesterday outside the butcher's) and it was farewell to the over priced Marks and Spencer, folate-rich Cantaloupe melon I'd eaten entirely for the baby's benefit. That's gratitude for you.

I'm going to start recording my weight from now on. Not any more interesting than sick to anyone other than myself but that won't stop me. I've been a steady 9 stone, 7.5 pounds since the beginning (which BY THE WAY midwife, gives me a BMI of 23, NOT 25). I am now 9 stone, 6.5 pounds which I'll put down to the aforementioned spewing. I'm supposed to put on a pound a week during the 2nd trimester.

Other than that, not much to report except a small bump that no one but me and D can notice. No appointments until 17 November so that will be 5 weeks between appointments with no way to be sure that everything is okay. Oh, except for the puking.


But it really needs to stop. There was only so much barfing on Lost and I'm seriously running out of visual aids.

Sick, Scan, Sick, Sleeps

After a scary day of pain and a lot of sickness a week past Monday, we went for the scan on 12 October and everything looks fine. The baby wouldn't stretch out so I had to do a lot of fairly violent jumping up and down and bashing my backside off the bed to get it to move. But it must take after its parents - it wasn't for moving at all. I had to go for a pee to encourage it to shift (though in the end it was more bashing around that did the trick). So it was measured at 49mm. And we're not calling it 'it' anymore. We'll go with 'he'. Not that I secretly think he's a 'he' and when I think about it unguarded, he's always a 'she'. So 'he' in public seems fair.


So since then, I've been sick just once, on Thursday. Although on Wednesday I came as close as I ever have to puking in public in Holyrood Park on the way to work. I even had my hair held back in preparation.

We've been off work this week and we got our carpet fitted upstairs. It looks like a proper grown up house now and the spare room is beginning to look like a nursery. D set it up with a nice chair and a nursing pillow. Awww.

Other than that, I've mainly used the time to sleep and feel nauseous. So much sleep - when will it ever end? But D has been very busy - going to the shops, getting rid of junk at the tip, tidying his clothes away even. It's the dawning of a new age.

Spewtiful

And so it goes on, spewing every other day now. At least once it's over, it's over. Much better than a whole day of nausea.

On Saturday H took me to Fort Kinnaird for a maternity induction. I was not having a good day - worries about work, redundancy, oh and that baby. We had to start off in Next and ease me in gently until I was ready for Mothercare. Actually I will never be ready for Mothercare. Horrific. I learned what a bump band is and had a quick look at buggies. Had to stop when I noticed we'd paused at a double buggy. I'd already seen 2 sets of twins that day and that was just about enough to tip me over the edge.

Vomit and Volcano

It's been a pukey week. I had my booking in appointment with the midwife on Monday but nearly didn't make it because I was sick just before I left the house. When I arrived I was so dehydrated, I couldn't pee for them and they had trouble finding a vein to draw blood. Then they asked me if I was going to breast feed and where I want to have the baby. Give me a break - I don't even really believe there IS a baby yet. Then they gave me a big pack of leaflets with more ridiculous decisions for making. Do I want my baby to have a vitamin K injection when it's born?

The pack has YOU'RE PREGNANT on the front of it, and I hadn't taken a big enough bag with me. I had to hide it under my jacket as I walked home.

On a positive sicky note, I am no longer only sick on Thursdays, having added Mondays and Fridays to my repertoire.

Last night I dreamt that my friend H was driving me around the loch at Stirling Uni,when a volcano went off. The lava was fast approaching. I had my 3 day old baby 'Amy' with me although she was the size of a 10 month old. I got out the car to avoid the lava flow and got separated from H. Then the dream went all post-apocalyptic and I eventually came across a group of folk in their twenties who had taken over an abandoned dorm. They let me have a room that had broken glass all over the bed. But in the dream I bonded with the baby and I am now 1% less freaked out than I have been.

Food Drop Please

Time is speeding up a little bit now. Most of the family know so maybe that helps.

Most of work don't know but I was busted big time by L. Apparently just because I had biscuits on my desk. (And then compounded by drinking orange and lemonade at the pub). We've agreed I'm the world's worst liar. I went all silly when asked why I wasn't drinking. The next day, a colleague, seemingly out of nowhere, started talking about how she was going to have to think about having children. L tried to deflect the conversation by saying 'oh get a dog'. So colleague asks L, 'are you going to get a dog?' L says 'no'. Then colleague turns to me and says 'are you going to have children?' Cue silly grin and the old 'maybe one day' response.

I still feel sick and particularly on Thursdays. (Based on two Thursdays so far.) I've disliked Thursdays since childhood - fish for tea, music lessons at school and even now it's the busiest day at work. But I've only thrown up once so that's quite good.

I'm trying to eat lots of good food and still get exercise but I get out of breath so easily. Now even D can walk faster than me. And I am soooo tired all the time. Tired and lazy. I came home early today to tidy and so far have only managed to eat a bag of fizzy gummy worms, some onion ring crisps and a can of red kola while lying on the couch watching Corrie. And I'll eat more - I'll eat a whole larder of food, you see if I don't.

But really I am being good most days. The only thing I'm rubbish at is drinking water. Water sucks.

What you wish for

Weeks (kind of) of nothing happening. Then today:

- morning sickness (that will be the last plum I eat in a while)
- confirmation from GP
- booking in appt - 27 September
- scan - 12 October
- insanely tired

Still Waiting

So, some hapless van driver forgot to bring test results to the GP surgery today so, as far as the medical profession is concerned, I remain loopy phantom pregnancy lady. I'm so compliant - I should have insisted they book me in for my first appt anyway and that they could cancel it if I am revealed to be LPPL. But, no, Im waiting for tomorrow. And waiting.

Week 8 (or at least we'll say it is for now). The Phantom

Finally more time passed and I went to the Doctors on Friday 3 September. Do not misunderstand me - I was under no illusions that this would be a visit of any real import. However, I did not expect to come away wondering if I was pregnant at all. Almost 50% of the appt was the doctor explaining how she needed proof that I was pregnant before going any further and explaining what to do if the lab report came back negative. Everyone else I've ever heard speak about it has said the doctor took their word for it. Granted, most people are baffled by this, but so repeated is the story, I was fully expecting to be believed. Silly me. So until tomorrow afternoon, I'm loopy phantom pregnancy lady as far as the medical profession is concerned. So I decided to act a bit loopy and call up today for my result, just in case. But no such luck. The receptionist was very nice about it, but it just wasn't in yet. Maybe they are checking it twice.

And in fact, there's no denying it, I am loopy because I've now done 4 tests. The last one was soo pink and so immediate, I can't possibly be in doubt. And yet I am - until tomorrow.

Week 5 (or is it 6, or even 7?) - the perception of time when pregnant might be different than the time experienced not pregnant

Catchy title, huh? It's been 9 days since we found out. I've been through a few changes already. I was up 4 nights in a row needing the loo urgently. I had to fight my way around the bed and woke D up each time. So we've swapped sides of the bed. After one more interrupted sleep (but just me this time), my body obviously adjusted and I can sleep through the night again. I still have to go more often than I'd like during the day. I also had what felt like weeks of cramps but of course was only a few days. And that's the worst thing. Time is going by sooo slowly. I just want to be a little bit more pregnant. I have some apps on my phone that tell me the baby's development and my supposed symptoms. I feel like I've been reading the same ones for years and years.


But the cramps seem to have stopped now. And I don't feel sick. So then I worry that something is wrong. In fact, perhaps I'm not really pregnant. It is a phantom pregnancy, surely. I dreamed it up. So I bought more tests yesterday. 4 more - but they were cheapy ones from one of those cheap chemists. And, yup, two pink lines it is.

Having said that about no symptoms, I was priding myself on not feeling tired last week but am barely able to keep my eyes open at the moment.

And here's the other thing. Exactly how pregnant am I? Supposedly it's from the first day of your lmp (get with the lingo guys). So for the first two weeks of your 'pregnancy', you are not actually pregnant. So going by that info, I'm 6 weeks and 2 days, or in week 7. And in real terms, the embryo (for that is all it is at the moment) has only existed for 4 weeks. However, I'm a late starter and am convinced my embryo has only been in existence for 3 weeks. But in medical terms, this does not stop me being 6 weeks and 2 days pregnant. But all this makes it difficult to know which of the progressing photos of blobs on my apps my embryo actually looks like. So I'm taking a guess and am masquerading as a 5 weeker. Not that it matters one iota I don't suppose, and especially because time has ceased to move on.

And on a final point, it is sooo difficult to eat more than 5 fruit and veg a day as well as the right amount of protein and that omega stuff. And that's coming from a regular fruit muncher. It's costing a fortune already.

Week 4 - Carry On Coylumbridge

I remember when we first saw the advert for the Clear Blue digital pregnancy test. Oh how we laughed at those dafties who couldn't understand 'one line not pregnant, two lines pregnant'and needed to see the word 'PREGNANT' appear in a lovely digitised screen instead. This morning I took a Sainsbury cheapy test. I'd taken it up north with us without the instructions. How hard is it to pee on a stick? After about 10 mins there was a faint pink line in the test area and a dark pink line in the control area. Except you are not supposed to read them after 10 mins. Some surfing on my Iphone explained all about 'evaps' which are false negatives on the stick which can develop after the 10 minute test period. They tend to be gray and not the colour of the dye used in the tests. It is just the strip of antibodies which looks a bit different from the rest of the test. Was my line an evap line, or positive? Did I wait longer than 10 mins, or not?

D was very sensible and refused to get emotionally involved until we did another test. We had to travel back from Aviemore this morning. I spent 3/4s of the train journey staring at my two pink lines. TWO PINK LINES. The other 1/4 was spent on my iphone reading hard luck stories on conception forums about the trauma of evap lines. By the time we arrived in Waverly I was pretty sure it was all a false alarm. I had also had a brief insight into the quite worrying world of ttc (trying to conceive) forums with their indecipherable abbreviations. More Google time spent understanding them:

BFN - Big Fat Negative
BFP - Big Fat Positive
DPO - Days post ovulation
AF - Aunt Flo (I'm not making this up)

and worst of all, BD (baby dance - i.e. having it off)

So anyway, feeling very bad for being so smug about women who bought digital tests, I got one in Boots at the station. It cost 3 times my cheapy supermarket test but I didn't want to be in any doubt. It had the added benefit of not having to wait until the next morning. So once home and after a couple of episodes of Corrie, I went upstairs to test. It was supposed to take 3 minutes, but sometimes as soon as 1 minute for the result. 10 seconds later, the word 'PREGNANT' appeared. Gah. Much shaking, much laughing and much happiness. Keep looking at the silly stick. D v excited. Less excited about continued existence of wee wee stick and my need to keep looking at it.

So several hours of looking at mumsnet type sites, I understand myself to be 4 weeks preggers although I only conceived 2 weeks ago. No comprende. Not for the last time I don't suppose.