Pregnancy is wonderful right? You glow and feel the utter most joy of growing and bringing a human into the world. You feel happy and shiny and free all the time. You wish it would never end and can't wait to do it all again right? It's all sunshines, fresh sun flowers and flowy dresses; right?! WRONG! So bloody wrong.
We found out we were expecting just two weeks after we had been to a wedding and I was uncontrollably downing tequila, sambucha shots and vodka sodas whilst wondering why the hell I was so bloated. But, that's always the way isn't it?
We were excited, nervous and scared. After suffering a heartbreaking loss just one year prior it was a mixed bags of emotions, quite literally.
We were on edge for the most part of the first trimester wondering if this one would make it and if it did - what would this mean for us? What would be our next step?
I had a lot of blood tests to ensure my levels were continually rising and more dating scans to calm our worries - all of these showed nothing but a very healthy fetus growing happily in there. We decided to not tell a soul about the little life growing until we were past the "safe point" and sure that we were ready to let the world know that we were expanding. Tom had told his boss and I had told one co-worker. Other than this we were in our own little bubble and rightly so. I had what I like to call "all day sickness".
Working at a café for 10 plus hours a day was not kind to my new found nausea either. I was constantly feeling like I was ready to hurl, my hips were about to pop off or I was going to drool all over the food due to excessive watery mouth syndrome. The days were long, my feet were swollen but, our secret was kept.
I was 12 weeks at Christmas time when we went to Melbourne to visit my family but, still decided to not tell anyone until we had our next scan to know everything was a okay.
I was bloated, round, cranky and breathless. Still to this day I'm unsure how no one guessed it.
I never really had the "is she fat or pregnant" stage.
Our little mini wanted to show itself pretty damn early which also was not kind to my wardrobe. (I think I took the plunge and converted to maternity pants around 16 weeks!)
Two weeks later we had our scan - our little bundle was perfect so, we decided to make some calls and tell everyone our good news. Naturally they were stoked.
I for one, was so excited to enter my second trimester. The time where everyone says the "glow" finds you, the sickness stops and the love and joy begins. They say its the most enjoyable time of pregnancy.
Well, so we thought...
Tripping down some concrete stairs and quite literally snapping your ankle at 26 weeks pregnant is not what I would call a walk in the park (pardon the pun).
The baby was our main concern through my fall, multiple x-rays, an operation and anaesthetic.
I spent a week in hospital that consisted of multiple days of fasting for my surgery to continue to be put off (Fasting is not something any pregnant woman wants to hear- am I right ladies?!), CTG's multiple times a day, extra ultrasounds, minimal pain killers, sponge baths and a bed pan.
Using a bedpan while you are quite literally becoming the size of an average house is difficult. The amount of times I peed on myself or had to get the nurse to bring another one for me was countless. (Pro-tip: never wait until you are busting to ask for one- this will only end in spillage)
Anyway, a broken ankle was a massive spanner for us, especially having Tom work in defence without certainty of his periods at home.
After 4 days of fasting the operation had finally came. It was decided I would have a spinal as a general would be too risky for the baby. This plan changed as soon as I was in the pre-operating theatre. I was not so quietly freaking the F out at this stage. I remember crying as I went to sleep with a nurse stroking my head and reassuring me that they would take care of us.
The staff were amazing and kept me calm - after the surgery it took 2 hours of monitoring to tell me that my baby was okay.
The poor midwife was 34 weeks pregnant herself and having trouble getting a good reading from my drowsy offspring.
The days following consisted of pain (limited pain killers because well, preggers), CTG's, being bed bound and hoping I would get discharged soon.
When practicing crutches in preparation for discharge I got a little cocky, I slipped and fell in the hallway of the hospital.
Picture this; A bowling ball of a woman, sweaty, hairy and breathless wearing a hospital gown and no undies(because, well.. bedpan) legs up in the air. Exposing herself to not only the nurses station but, all the poor patients and visitors surrounding. Let's just say I wasn't the only one with red cheeks.
This fall led to no discharge. Luckily the only thing that was broken was my dignity and what was left in tact was soon shattered when I went downstairs for my next x-ray of my wrist I fell on. I was wheeled down in my hospital gown and unbeknownst to me until i got there that I had flashed everyone my southern region on the way (why didn't I learn and put on some god damn undies?!). Not only this but, of course I hadn't already been embarrassed enough- my growing milk jugs (like a G-Cup before conceiving wasn't enough of a hindrance) decided to leak!!
AT 27 WEEKS?! I didn't even know that was possible.
After getting home the new way of life started. Because of my weight and jabba the hut like figure I was really unable to do a lot alone. Showering was a hard half an hour task - wrapping my cast, undressing, having Tom help me in the shower, wash my bum as my belly wouldn't let me manoeuvre that way and have him help me out as well.
Toileting was on a komodo so that I could push myself up - my crutches were my new best friend.
I wasn't confident after my (by now multiple) falls so, I would crawl on my hands and knees up and down the stairs of a morning and night.
Blood thinners were being injected nightly and at first I wasn't able to bring myself to do this so, that was again a job for Tom (God love him).
Two weeks flew by and it was time for my GTT results.. surely this pregnancy had already gotten the hardest its going to get. I have a cast on - I'm about to have this removed and a moonboot put on which I will have for a following 6 weeks. I'm sweaty, hairy, pimply and my nipples are the size of 50 cent pieces.
Surely I will catch a break and be spared Gestational Diabetes right?!
WRONG AGAIN! I was too slapped with that.
Being positive was something I would try to do often after receiving this news. Due to being non weight bearing, diet was the only way to control my glucose levels.
Nobody tell you how many damn appointments you will have when this happens.
At 28 weeks pregnant my hope of being able to live some what of a normal life pre baby was out the window.
This is when my journey of being a complete pregripple really became interesting...
Brilliant love.
What noooo you cant stop there I was so invested haha!!! You are such and inspirational women and I cannot wait to read more. Absolutely captivating!