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Wednesday 27 May 2015

Winter 2013/14 - The 12 week scan, Christmas and New Year!


When we reach the 12 week scan date my husband and I are beyond excited but also incredibly nervous. When we arrive at our local hospital I am taken into a side area and have bloods taken, blood pressure done etc. Once that's done we have a short wait and are called into the sonographers room. The sonographer tells us she will do the scan, check things over and take all the measurements she needs to. Once she's happy she will tell us what she sees. As she starts she tells us we can look at the flat screen TV on the wall and we will be able to see our baby. Our little baby flickers on to the screen. A baby. An actual BABY!! No longer a little flickering bean shaped heartbeat but an ACTUAL BABY!! Once the sonographer has finished she assures us everything seems ok, pointing out the head and the babies long legs. Just like Daddy already! She asks if we have any questions and we both seem to sit in silence. After a moment we both explain we are still amazed to be pregnant and although we are well aware of what a baby looks like on a sonogram it seems a huge jump from our little Bean to an actual baby shaped baby!


Tuesday 10 February 2015

Autumn/Winter 2013 - Just knocked up - Start of pregnancy to week 12


So the day has nearly come around for my scan and I feel a mix of excitement and anxiety.

My husband and I discussed who and when to tell people and we have told around half a dozen to a dozen people and have sworn them to secrecy. One of those people is my Mum but the problem with telling her is that she CANNOT keep a secret! We did consider not telling our parents but thought it best to in case something unfortunate happened and we needed them. I was still a little unsure about telling them but became backed into a corner when Mum asked me to help her lift something heavy from the car. I said no and she stomped off, whilst my Dad gave me a look that said I was unhelpful little madam! Obviously they were over the moon when I explained why a few minutes later.

By the time my birthday and the scan came around I'm struggling to keep it under wraps. I feel sick a lot of the time but never actually throw up and spend a lot of the time feeling like I've just come off a rollercoaster. On my birthday my sister knocks at the door as I've got my head in the loo and as you can hear me heaving all over the house I think I may have been rumbled. Thankfully, she never asks and doesn't question why I am under the weather.

Tuesday 20 January 2015

Autumn/Winter 2013


Waiting, waiting, waiting. I have peed on a stick for the hundredth time and the time has come to look at the results. I look at the stick and at the all important windows. I think I'm going to be sick. There's a line and another. I have more than one line. I look again. There's a line in the test window to say it has been taken correctly and in the results window there are two lines. TWO BLOODY LINES!!!

It has took six years, two operations and a round of Clomid but I am pregnant. ME! PREGNANT!!!! The woman that is barren! The woman that has endometriosis!! I'M PREGNANT!!!! I hear the cleaners approaching and fight the urge to shout from the roof tops and do a little dance in the cubicle instead!

Tuesday 7 October 2014

Summer/Autumn 2013 - The Clomid commences


We are on our way to breakfast and the phone call comes sooner than expected. As soon as we've eaten we head back to the hospital to collect the prescription. When I pick it up they wish me luck and book me in for a scan for around the time I am due to ovulate so they can check if I've ovulated or not. I wait for over an hour at the pharmacy and while I wait I let those that need to know or have wanted to know that I'm starting treatment. There's a lot of excited people, good lucks, well wishes and fingers crossed.

When we get home I read the packet and the advice notes cover to cover. It warns of hot flushes, emotions and cramping amongst other things. I take the first one and give myself a 'come on, you can do this'. The first couple of days are fine but on the last day of the tablets and the couple that follow it I am somewhat in a state. By the Monday I am tripping over words, having hot flushes and dizzy spells, my head is pounding and I feel so sick I'm worried about how I going to get on at work. I also have a commitment with the other Brownie leaders and I really don't want to let people down. I get out of bed and try and pull myself together. It doesn't go well. I am tripping wet with sweat and feel like I'm going to pass out. Close to tears, I phone work and let them know I won't be in and I drop Brown Owl a text too. By the time I ring my husband and my Mum I am crying like a baby. Mum arrives soon after and I have another shower to try and cool down and she settles me in front of the TV, like the old days with a blanket (as I'm now freezing) and a Disney film. I'm back at work the next day and things settle down.

Thursday 31 July 2014

Summer 2013 - Part 3 - So close


So here I am. In the hospital standing on the scales of doom. The nurse tells me again to stand still and I try not to roll my eyes. She also looks at the height measure attached to the scales and I'm tempted to stand on my tiptoes but I'd probably wobble and fall over. If only I'd carried on with ballet! God, if I did it now I'd look like the hippo from Fantasia! I try my best to keep still and the nurse leaves me on the scales and wanders round to her desk and taps on her calculator whilst looking at BMI charts.

'Well, you're BMI is now around 30.05.'

It needs to be below 30. I won't lie but for some reason I wanted to punch her. It was perhaps my hormones but I felt, and do still feel a little, that she was slightly smug when she said it. I'm sure it was just me or that she had got sick of the sight of me. I perhaps deserved the look she gave me. I mean it's me that can't stop eating cake, not her. I don't think she's ever seen a cake!

Thursday 26 June 2014

Summer 2013 - Part 2 - You just need a big poo



After my last visit to the hospital I feel I'm nearing the finish line. Yes, I have a couple of pound hurdles to go but the target is realistic and I'm not a million miles away from it. I battle to get the last few pounds off before my next weight appointment.

I walk into the hospital so sure I have finally done it. With my husband at my side I am sure I have. My scales say I have. I must have. Bad news. I haven't. It's a different nurse to before. I have met her previously and I know this one isn't as friendly and doesn't look like she has seen a cream cake or bar of chocolate EVER! I had hoped it was the one from last time but sadly it's not. She works out my BMI and it is around 30.1. It has to be below 30 for NHS treatment. As she did last year, she points out that I do now meet the requirements for private treatment if I'm willing to pay! I am gutted and I'm sure my husband is too. He somehow remains upbeat and I make an appointment to return in a couple of weeks.