Careful what you wish for... (9 weeks)

Firstly, I apologise for the delay in getting an update up.  James and I went over to the Isle of Man to tell his mum and sister in person.  It was also the twins' fourth birthday complete with party at the activity play centre - great for an epic dose of "dear lord what are we getting ourselves into!"  

Always good to spend time with them and little Jake though.  I can't believe they're four now!  And they're so very clever.  You really have to watch what you say around them because they suck up language like a sponge!

Anyway, we only got back on Tuesday and then yesterday I had a pretty rough day.  

Let me explain.

Firstly there's the fact that I had my first doctor's appointment and they took blood.  Which means I passed out.  I should have known - it happens every time.  But I thought, nah - not this time, I'll be fine.  Nope.  Last thing I remember is the blood lady finishing up, asking if I was OK and me saying no.  Then, nice long lovely dream later, I come to staring at the ceiling with a crowd of people around me and NO clue what was going on.  Even when I clued in that I was in a hospital I assumed I must have been in an accident or something because I didn't know why I was there.  I eventually regained my senses, of course, but it's still extremely unpleasant and I really hate it.  But the good news is that they don't take blood at every appointment... just most of them.  Fantastic.  Next time though, I'm prepared.  I've asked them to put a sign on the ceiling that says "You're in the antenatal clinic and everything is fine!  Welcome Back!"

But my bad day didn't stop there... 

When you tell people that you're pregnant in the early days, the most common thing they ask about is morning sickness.  I think many people don't really know what other things early pregnancy brings and it's probably for the best.  I don't know how I would handle it if everyone followed the announcement with: "How exciting!  Are you farting, like, ALL the time now?!"  (Which is true, by the way - it's an amazingly endless supply).  Or perhaps: "Congratulations!  How many times did you get up last night to pee?!" (three) or even "That's brilliant!  How many days has it been since you had a poo?! (two) .  So it might be good that all that unpleasantness is dealt with in private (well, at least until I just wrote about it).  But people DO know about morning sickness and ask about it.  And when you tell them that you feel absolutely completely fine, they give you this look.  This "either-you're-lying-or-something-is-wrong-with-you-because-TV-told-me-you-get-sick-when-you're-pregnant" look.  And you begin to believe it.  Forget that my boobs are so sore they feel like a melon-sized bruise.  Pregnant = Sick.  Therefore Sick = Pregnant.  I am not sick.  Not Sick = ??  Something must be horribly wrong.  

And I made the mistake of wishing that I felt sick, just a little bit, just so I knew that everything was ok.  This is ridiculous.  I am aware of that fact.  Everybody is different and, contrary to plot twists that involve a character randomly puking up her breakfast and everyone gasping with the immediate knowledge of what that means, not everyone gets sick.  But I fell for the myth and began to think that something is obviously wrong.  There's been some mistake.  I'm not actually pregnant.  Or maybe I was but I'm obviously not anymore.  So I wished for it to happen.

And then it did.

It started last week and it is NOT NICE!!  I don't want it anymore!  Take it back!  I won't doubt anymore, promise!  Just let me feel normal again.  

I shouldn't be so dramatic really, it's not as bad as many women get.  It's not morning sickness at all for me, it starts around noon, so I can usually get a full healthy breakfast in.  And my amazing amount of willpower means I can often go for full days without actually puking.  But the nausea is incredible.  Just looking at certain foods makes the churning start.  Lunch has become what can I eat rather than what do I want to eat.  And some days (like yesterday) my willpower doesn't hold and I can't keep much of anything down (hence my bad day).  In general, my willpower is quite impressive though.  On the train on the way to the airport last week I felt it hit and knew that there was no fighting it back.  This one was coming out.  But I wanted to be sorted first.  I held it for the rest of the journey.  When we got off the train at the airport James wanted to find a bathroom for me.  But I wanted to be sorted first.  He kept giving me worried looks but I made it through check-in, through security, into departures, and found a seat.  I was sorted - I left all my stuff with James and headed to the bathroom.  Unfortunately my willpower ends when my brain triggers that it's now ok - so the instant I saw a toilet, that was IT.  No shutting the door, no raising the seat, so dignity whatsoever.  But no matter how it ends, I am impressed by and grateful for my willpower.  So I really shouldn't complain.  Especially since I was quite literally asking for it.

So now what?  Did it work?  Am I magically all aglow with my new-found status as "truly pregnant"?  Nope.  Turns out I'm still anxious.  All of the joys and excitement are still hanging out side by side with the worry that something might go wrong, or already has and I just don't know.  I'm still desparately waiting for that first scan to happen sooner or come quicker (it's not until the March 9).  It's just now, on top of it all, I'm sick.

I know this is a bit of a rant.  But a truthful one because the last few days have felt like I'm stuck in a horrible endless hangover.  But it's not a rant that outweighs anything.  I know why I'm going through this and the "why" is a good one.  I would never wish for it to be otherwise.  But the thought of feeling like this every day for the next month at least is an unpleasant one.  I know it might go away soon, I know it won't last forever, and I know there are sacrifices to be made.  But it's still not nice... and I can't believe I ever actually wished for it to happen.