The first law of alchemy

“In order to obtain or create something, something of equal value must be lost or destroyed.”

Beth is nearly 8 weeks and although she has been reasonably calm these last few days the above quote has been flying through my head. Although unhealthy, I’ve been thinking about everything I have lost in gaining her. Everything I’ve been feeling recently can amount to 3 words.

Guilt

For not being able to love her like a normal mother would. For not carrying on breast feeding despite everything that says it’s for the best. For not running to her every cry within seconds simply because I’m too exhausted of bending to her every demand. For not being as good a mother to her as I know I should be.

Then there is guilt to Kim and pup. For not being able to give them the attention they once had. For not being able to share a bed with them both because I know caring for Beth at night will simply keep them awake. For making Kim work a job he hates simply to keep us all going. For putting him in a life he may never have chosen.

This section could go on a lot longer. Mothers are so judgemental of everything you do. If you’re not doing it to their standards or to this weeks “guidelines” then you’re selfish and a bad mother. A lot of guilt stems from this. I want to be a good mother, so why do I listen to these types?

Loneliness

I’m doing a lot of this by myself. Though Kim helps he has to work a lot of the time and the last thing he wants is to be working again as soon as he gets through the front door. I have no family here to help out and the friends I do have have little experience with babies. That’s when they actually remember I exist anyways. I spend my days in front of the TV holding Beth counting the hours until Kim gets home. There is nowhere to go where I live. No simple trip down the shops. I can’t even walk the dog easily with the pram and going out without him is not an option. I have no one to really talk to and it’s lonely. People say I should ask for help because I never do. There is no one to ask though. And even if there was, what can they do? Why even bother them?

Mourning

For the above first law. Everything I feel I have sacrificed.

Going straight back to college, walking pup casually during the day, my body or at least what I knew it to be, a fun, enjoyable sex life, my social life (or at least what there was of it), any time gaming, a full nights sleep, my identity…

I guess a lot of what I’m trying to figure out with this is who I am now. As a mother I feel like nothing. I feel like Beth is the personality and the life and I’m just the drone which sustains her. Like that guy from total recall. I feel like I’ve lost who I am and I’m mourning that as I try to figure myself out. I feel like a shadow of who I used to be. Was it an equal cost for her? I hope so.

This is just me trying to structure my thoughts before the next feed which I know will come soon. Another night of feed, nap, feed, nap. Before another day of feed, settle, feed, settle… It will get better. Just need to keep my head above the water.

4 weeks gone

So things are getting better somewhat. I’m not crying every day only the odd day when I’m tired and frustrated. My mum and sister coming over was a big boost I needed even if it did give me a small realisation that I never ask for help when I need it. It also made me realise that I get very easily frustrated over the silliest of things. One of which was a sling we bought that I just couldn’t get to fit comfortably. The only thought running through my head when trying it though was “I’m too fat to carry my own child.” Yeah it was a little extreme.
I’m liking Beth a little more each day but still view her with a sort of detachment rather than the unconditional love that others seem to have. I voiced a few of my frustrations to my nurse at her 2 week check and her advice was what everyone else has told me. Keep up on my sleep and accept/ ask for help when needed. Well as said I’m slowly getting there.
My aims as always are to keep Kim happy. If he’s happy then I’m happy. Unfortunately though this is proving difficult recently. In being so miserable I seem to have neglected even the basic things like telling him I love him. I do love him there is no doubt about it but recently I’ve just been having trouble with everything. I’m sure he understands but I need to pull myself out of this rut. Nights are the worst I find. When I just feel alone with things. When it’s dark and my thoughts kick in. Usually when I’m most tired and need to sleep. It’s hopefully getting better though. I don’t want to jinx it.
I’m not actually sure what to put right now. I just wanted to update to say we’re getting there. Very slowly I’m getting there. One night at a time.

2 weeks in

Something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe it’s exhaustion from not sleeping or eating properly. Maybe it’s from the constant care I’m having to give and sleeping on the sofa so as to avoid waking Kim during the night with feeds and changing. But I’m fed up.
I can barely find the motivation or energy to have conversations with people currently. I was told to expect the baby blues but I get the feeling this is something more. When Beth cries I just don’t want to be in the same room as her. I’m tired of being on demand constantly with not even a moment to myself. Even a 5 minute shower doesn’t fix it. I’m fed up, Kim is fed up. Even the dog is miserable as there is no one to play with and his walks are more limited.
I spend my days crying and I’m only ever really happy when Kim is here but even then I’m worn out. I feel guilty for feeling this way too. We tried so long to bring this child into our lives and now she is here and I just don’t know how to feel about her. As terrible as it sounds I don’t feel like I love her. When she was placed on me after birth my initial feeling was not one of unconditional love. But more of shock and fear.
I’m tired of staring at the same 4 walls of my front room but I can’t go out as we don’t have the pram yet. Even if we did I don’t think I’d want to go outside. I just want to curl up in bed and cry until I can’t any longer. I don’t have th energy to see friends and even if I did it would just be a hoping that they might be here to wake me up from all this.
Don’t get me wrong I’m taking care of Beth. She’s being fed, changed and looked after to the best of my ability but I just don’t know how much more of this I can do. I keep thinking that me and Kim’s lives have been ruined in some way. He didn’t even want a baby and now he is being forced to put up with all this. He works all day and comes home to a miserable and exhausted girlfriend, a house that looks like a bomb has hit it and a daughter who just demands feeds and doesn’t settle properly. I’m so sorry to him. I didn’t mean for things to be like this.
My mum and sister are coming by next week and I just hope a little rest helps me. I just feel so alone with all this right now. I’m supposed to be happy we have our baby. I’m supposed to know its difficult and yet get through it and not complain as after all I have what I wanted after 2 1/2 years. I have to keep smiling. Have to keep swimming. I have to shut down mentally to get through this.

One Smug Mother.

Disclaimer : If you had a horrible labor and can’t stand the sound of someone who didn’t I would advise not to read on. If however you are a FTM with a fear of being strapped to a bed for days of struggle ending in some sort of assisted delivery then read on. What I got was not what I expected.

Now Elizabeth Marie was born at 00.19am Tuesday 3rd June weighing a surprising 7 lb 2 oz. (39+2)

On the Monday I had woken up a few times during the morning with mild period pains but nothing I would consider often or even painful. Having had heavy periods all my life these were nothing but niggles. At 6am I decided to get up for some breakfast when I noticed a trickle of fluid. This stopped start as I walked around or stood up but seemed to be like a heavy discharge. I figured this was the early/pre-stages of labor I’d been told to expect. I set myself up for a day on the sofa with Animal Planet on and a little Mass Effect 3. I’d planned to have the trilogy completed before she arrived.

Well the pains came and went but weren’t building in intensity and weren’t very regular. I’d been told this could go on for days and messaged friend J asking if this could just be braxton hicks as I hadn’t experienced them at all. I mentioned the fluid loss and was told that could have been my waters. Now I don’t know why but I expected them to keep leaking if it was and this had stopped from the hour or so in the morning. Either way I took her advice and called Kim and the hospital to say I just wanted to be checked out just in case. If it was my waters I didn’t want to run the risk of infection. Everyone couldn’t believe how calm I was about the whole thing. If anything I was a little excited to see how it would go. Well an hour later me and Kim went down the hospital where they hooked me up to a trace to check Beth’s movement. She was fine and my contractions had calmed down quite a bit and I wasn’t leaking. Dr’s and nurses took their time as I really was in no serious situation or hurry.

At 3,30 a Dr came in to do a swab test to check the fluid.  She was not gentle with this. It was like a smear test times 10. Not unbearable but I did mouth the words “What the fuck!” to Kim when she started. Well this is where things got fun. The rest of my waters proceeded to break all over the bed. I was more worried about making a mess of the floor than what was actually happening. This was it though. I was off to the labour ward and they weren’t letting me go home until I’d had her. I really didn’t want this. I had wanted to go home and watch Aliens and relax in my own space. I honestly began to panic a little just at being stuck in a hospital and strapped to a bed. Well I got taken to my room and told if labor didn’t start in 18 hours I’d be induced. Time to wait…

Sort of….

15 minutes later and a quick call to my mum to let her know what was happening and my contractions had built up in pain quite a bit and after each one I was feeling quite sick. I requested a anti-emetic to get past this. In between contractions and during most of them I was pretty cool though. 15 minutes after the anti-emetic and I was asking about pain relief as things were getting a little uncomfortable and quite quickly. Claire the midwife gave me some paracetamol and said they were just changing over staff and that my only option was pethadine until I was dilated enough to be moved to delivery. She said I seemed ok and calm though and not to worry too much, she’d see me when she was back in. I didn’t want pethadine due to already feeling quite sick despite the earlier injection. I decided to wait it out and see how I went.

Well 20 minutes later and I was sat in the bathroom feeling very very uncomfortable and trying to fight the urge to vomit, piss and shit at the same time. I was not a happy bunny and had Kim request a nurse come and examine me just so I knew how much I had of this left. Something was going on and I was beginning to panic – I dreaded being that first time mum who just screams for an epidural when they’re barely a centimeter dilated. You know those types from one born every minute who just scream and scream…ugh…The midwife who came in gave me the look as if I was one. Until she did the examination. She then ran off and called a colleague who checked me quickly and started prepping the bed for movement. Contraction over and I’m casually asking what stage I’m at. Could I have got to 4cm in the hour or so since my waters went? I was fully dilated and off to be delivered. So much for pain relief and the average 16 hours that I was advised I’d be dealing with. On wheeling down I had a huge contraction, did some moaning (not even screaming, I was just humming at one point to get through it) and again was resisting throwing up. Turns out that was being caused by dilating so quickly and I don’t think any anti emetic was going to beat that. Transition was a bitch it seemed. Luckily no embarrassing vomiting though! Not bad for the one with the phobia.

Anyways, I’m rushed down and moved to the delivery bed where the 2 new delivery midwives can not believe how quickly I’ve been sent to them. They’re checking my notes multiple times to make sure. Meanwhile I’m chatting away in between my somewhat short and irregular contractions joking about things from TV and really being somewhat cool with things. They say there is no point getting the epidural I had planned as by the time the Dr had it prepped and set Beth would be here. I figured what the hell then, let’s not bother. Well 4 hours later and she was still not there. My urges to push were near non existent and contractions too short to really be effective. I got hooked to the Syntocinon to speed them up. Now this, I dreaded as had been told it also ramps up the pain. I was coping fine as it was (without the gas and air I might add as simply didn’t see the point in it. All I wanted was to bite down on something.) Well it worked and during this final hour I was exhausted. I just wanted to sleep and was begging them to just pull her out of me. I even recommended they could do it like a sheep and tie her legs up and just pull. This was the finish though. They guided me with my pushing, telling me what I needed to do and got me through it. Kim was amazing keeping me calm and cooling me off when I needed. I honestly don’t know how I would have coped without them. She was born 00.19 on the 3rd. Luckily the day after my parent’s wedding anniversary and after the announcement of a friend’s engagement.

It turns the reason she was so slow from dilation is because she was back to back and elbow first. Somewhere along the line she had turned and so all pain was in my hips and spine. I got a tear (no idea how bad, but I apparently lost quite a lot of blood and am stitched from end to end) but after it all I can honestly say I was right not to be nervous of it. I handled it all like I knew I would do. I got told with any future children I should probably just have a home birth. I don’t think I’ll be going through it again any time soon though….

So for a first time mother advised that because of BMI I should expect a slow, painful delivery with a heavy child and some assistance needed I did everything the exact opposite. Yeah I’ve been smug….

This basically gives a sum up of the mood of my childbirth. Whilst being stitched up we were discussing Scottish porn…

 

An open page

Just so people are warned this will be one of them soppy pregnancy posts that are sweet but kind of sickening. 

To my Beth,

It’s less than 4 weeks until you’re here and I’m still in a state of shock. There has been only fleeting moments of excitement during this pregnancy. Most of it has been anticipation, worrying, a feeling of disengagement. I still mostly have the same feeling I did when I first found out I was pregnant with you. That “Oh shit” feeling. A feeling that I have to distance myself so that I won’t be hurt when something goes wrong. At 36 weeks you’d think that would have passed and it does at times. At those moments when I catch the Mexican wave of my bump moving or when I’m sorting through your tiny clothing. But then I realise how much more in love with you I am and I have to put myself back into reality again. I can’t let myself get hurt. Especially not at this stage. I’m sorry. I feel bad that I haven’t been able to enjoy pregnancy as much as a lot of other women. Everyday that you’ve moved and every scan I’ve had, every beat of your heart I’ve heard is a blessing. I’m so thankful for it. I worry that these feelings won’t shift and that I won’t be the best mother to you. I’ll try my best to be though.

We have everything ready for you here and it is just a waiting game now. I know that you’ll come when you’re ready. You’re stubborn like me and your father so will do as you please but I sort of hope you’re here sooner rather than later. I just want to know you’re safe. My control freak side of my mind wants to watch over you and protect you and the sooner you arrive, the sooner I can do this. Then I know everything will be ok. Even the dog expects your arrival. He barely leaves my side. He was always bad for being clingy with me but he knows that things are changing. He’ll protect you, just as us parents will.

I’m looking forward to seeing what type of child you’ll be. Will you still react to AC/DC or Top Gear the way you do currently with rolls and kicks to rival JCVD? Will you be a bookworm like your dad or a gamer like your mum? Will you sleep as much as pup or be up all night like the hammy? I look forward to these parts. As much as pregnancy has been tough the end result will be worth it. Childbirth scares me but it’s a 1 way trip. And I know it’s one I can get through. I’m not scared of the pain, I’m scared of losing control, but in that situation I just have to go with it. I just have to remember what it’s all for. Just need to remember that your dad is with me and that I love him and you so dearly.

I look forward to silly things as well. Like binning the bottles of Gaviscon. I might actually need a small party or event just to signify that moment in my life more than anything. I’m looking forward to a nice cold glass of wine. I’ll admit now I’ve had the odd singular beer during the last few months. A risk I know but I’ve made sure not to be stupid about it. I’m looking forward to pate on toast again and being able to view myself in a mirror without being reminded of the stay puff marshmallow man. Strangely enough I’m looking forward to breastfeeding. Something that I was very against years ago now seems enjoyable to me. My views on it in public haven’t changed at all but it’s a start. Most of all I look forward to us being a family. Mum, dad, you, pup and the waps of course.

To my Beth, despite all my worries I love you. That I never worry about.

As close as he can get to protect you.

Getting prepared

So with only 6 weeks or so left till D day I’m starting to get stressed. It’s not so much I want to be, more that my brain likes kicking in at 2am and reminding me of everything that is going to be happening. And it’s not just Beth’s arrival to shake things up. My college exams start Monday and it feels like despite weeks of classes and working my ass off nothing learnt has stuck. I read a previous exam question and I can feel the information in my head but not the answers. I’ve been trying to revise anatomy for a week now and even though it’s going in very slowly, I know on the day the questions that come up will not be relevant to anything I’ve picked up. I’m putting the pressure on myself of course as normal. I’m not sleeping already as it is. In between bathroom breaks, the morning sickness (Which still continues), heartburn and just aches and pains it’s making for long nights and a vile woman to deal with first thing. Kim got the blunt end of things this morning with a simple joke about the dishwasher. Pup is getting it today just by being pup.

I should relax, I know. I’ll be fine. I’ll do the exams and I’ll pass at the very least. Beth will be born and everything will just slot in and work as it should. I think I’ve started worrying with the birth side of things a little more though since yesterday. We had our antenatal class and were told to get our bags packed by next week as anything could happen from now on. I think it’s the uncertainty of it all that’s driving me nuts. I sort of just want her here now. I’m tired of worrying over things that are out of my control with her. We’ve got pretty much everything ready for her though knowing me it’ll all be off in some sort of way when she does arrive. I worry about being alone with her when she is here. Like I don’t know a thing about babies. They say it comes naturally, but does it? And how will I cope with things like generally living and then managing pup to top it off. I’m currently washing all the clothes that Kim’s mum got for us. (So very grateful for these as they were perfect and a huge weight off my mind) but I’m pretty sure I’ve gone and managed to dye everything pink. It wasn’t till they were solidly in the wash that I realised there were whites and colours in there. I sort of hope it doesn’t go all wrong but if it does will it just prove the sort of failure parent I’ll be? Yeah this is my brain currently. I just have to keep singing this one song to myself.

Patti: What’s going to happen? What does the future hold? So many things that I put off, Assuming I’d have time, assuming I’d grow old. What’s going to happen? And will I be alive tomorrow? What’s going to happen…to me?

Dr. Cox: You’re going to be okay

All: That’s what’s going to happen. Everything’s okay. We’re right here beside you, we won’t let you slip away. Plan for tomorrow ’cause we swear to you, you’re going to be okay

Patti: I’m going to be okay

All: That’s what’s going to happen

Patti: Everything’s okay

All: Everything’s okay. We will never leave you, right here we will stay (Plan for tomorrow) Plan for tomorrow, ’cause we swear to you, you’re going to be okay

J.D.: We hope…

Dr. Cox: Shhhhh…..

Bad blogger

So I’ve been a pretty shit blogger since getting pregnant. I’ll be honest I only ever really blog when I’m not in the best of mental places and recently though stressed I’ve been ok. My stress mainly revolves around 2 things. My college assignments and having this baby.

With college we’re coming to the end of the year. Assignments, assessments and exams are starting to reach deadlines and the exams are lurking just around the corner. Everything I’ve learnt seems to be escaping my brain the moment I need to recall it and the pregnancy brain isn’t helping. For instance I just had to sex a hamster using 2 poorly taken photos. I keep hamsters. I know hamsters. I had read my notes 100 times. When I saw the pictures I questioned everything I knew and chose the wrong fucking option. It didn’t help that me and this tutor clash quite badly and in her newly pregnant state (which she’s having trouble hiding despite us all knowing) we just don’t seem to get on too well. I’ve tried being pleasant and still get nothing but the “could you fucking not” face. Then we have the dog grooming assessment coming up. This is the one real module that I have to pass. And I’m dreading it. I’m terrified.Still suffering with morning sickness and having to shave a dog covered in its own shit will not do me any good. Could I maybe do this assessment in about August? When I’m able to walk and do things like a normal human being again. Seriously this shit has been keeping me awake at night.

Then we have the pregnancy stuff. I’m not so worried about the pain part. Wierd I know. I’m worried how I’ll react to the pain if anything. I don’t want to be that hysterical crazy woman on the wards but I know my anxiety might get the better of me. I worry about being in hospital. I know it’s the safest place for me but I don’t like the atmosphere in them. I don’t like the doctors and nurses who are too busy to help you. I certainly don’t like the 200 degree temperature that seems to always be circulating the building. No wonder people leave the place sicker. I’m worrying will we have everything come June. Or whether she’ll arrive early before we’re even ready. And then there is the worry of if I go over. I don’t want to be induced. I’m not up for being trapped in a room just waiting for the pain to start at any moment. I don’t want that to happen. And then there is the general worries about her health. Will she be the right size at the next appointment? Does she kick enough? Does she kick too much? Illogical stuff taking up precious space in my mind.

To be fair I just need a good night’s sleep. With all these worries and then the normal waking up’s during the night I’m feeling pretty run down. Only 1 assignment left to complete and hand in and then that’s it. I’m done. Just need the dog grooming assessment out of the way.

Apart from stressed I’m doing ok though. I’ve got the majority of my work out of the way for now. We’ve bought a lot of what has been needed for Beth and it’s really just the waiting game with her. I avoided the GTT and expect to get a lecture on the th at my 32 week appointment. I’m amazed with how fast it’s gone by but certainly won’t miss this part when it’s over. Except maybe the movements. Them I enjoy. Just not at 2am….

100 left!

So hello peeps. It’s the start of another week off and Kim actually has time off as well so we’re going to be painting Beth’s room and just trying to relax for once. There is 100 days of my pregnancy left and I’m counting down every moment of them. As of this moment this isn’t something I’d want to go through again. I’m still sickly each morning, I’ve got ongoing heartburn and reflux to the point where I’m drinking Gaviscon from the bottle and only in the last week have I started sleeping better. I’m still exhausted of course though. Add to that the stresses of college and the knowledge that I have my exams coming up I’m a little easy rattled. I’ll be 35 weeks when I’m doing them, This includes an hour dog grooming skills assessment which I’m having so much trouble getting to grips with already. It’s tricky with 5 people working on a dog and most of them already having experience. I’m learning very little.

On good notes though 100 days is a countdown point I can track. I’m enjoying buying bits of the baby items like the expressing stuff and little clothes. Just worries me financially of course. I’m really trying to avoid stress at this point, I know it’s not going to do me or Beth any good at all.

I’m worrying about my GTT still which I haven’t yet booked. I’ve felt pretty abandoned with the nurses and hospital over here in Ireland and feel any concern I have gets brushed off as crazy first time parent. Maybe they’re right but I feel I’m getting ignored. The morning sickness makes fasting impossible. I’m up at 6.30 each day to get food inside me before retreating back to bed or I just become a mess. Not to mention my terrible veins which I’ve brought up in previous blogs. This is going to make a 3 hour blood test a miracle to get through. If I’m sick they need to re book it. I’ve tried asking about alternatives like glucose strip testing at home, doing the 1 hour non fasting test or even eating something protein based before the test rather than anything that would increase sugar levels. All options were met with a “hmm, you’re just going to have to suck it up and do it”… I asked about medication for the nausea and got a nope. I’m not even allowed water or my gaviscon for 12 hours before the test which will equal acid reflux nausea, dehydration and morning sickness all in one package. The test so far is really looking to me like it’s not going to go ahead at all. I keep seeing the risks of gestational diabetes and get this feeling that I’m almost being emotionally blackmailed into doing a test that might be unnecessary if they would just do a 1 hour test instead. But can I question them or at least voice my concerns? They don’t have time for it. Not to mention I have to visit the hospital for this appointment and yet see my local nurse for my 28 week check up. They can’t do them both together which would be the logical option. Is my main worry the blood test in itself? not at all, that would make some sense. The problem is I’m an emetaphobe. I’m terrified of being sick, of people being sick around me. If someone even mentions they feel sick I go into anxiety mode straight away. The biggest part of this pregnancy has been for me trying to avoid being sick and trying to avoid getting ill. I’m a label freak on foods, I check everything I eat and I hate places where sick people will be. The less time I’m in the hospital the better. Now this is all an illogical phobia that I’ve had for many many years and a lot of people don’t understand it. You’d think I’d be able to get over it for a simple test that could prevent alot of pregnancy related problems but I really can’t. Since I heard of the blood test needing to be done it’s been a major worry on my mind and no medical professional will acknowledge it. I honestly don’t know what to do with it at this stage.

Apart from all this time has been going by quite quickly. We’re already nearing March when yesterday seems to have been Christmas and June is just around the corner. I’ll finally get to see my family again who I’ve missed so much the last few months. Really do wish I was back home in the UK at times.

On a lighter note I’m totally hyped for the new series of Hannibal later tonight. I’ve watched all the first series, gained an unhealthy obsession with Mads Mikkelsen and have been counting the days until the next episode would be aired. Seriously he is a better Hannibal Lector than Anthony Hopkins. Below basically sums up the entire show.

The pregnancy bit

Right and second post. The pregnancy one.

I’m currently 21 weeks and 3 days. I’m still suffering with heartburn and morning sickness even though I had thought it had began to ease off. I realised this morning that it hasn’t. My hips are feeling pretty fucked. I’m struggling to hold my weight up with them at times and I just can not get comfy sitting down. I’ve got a bruise on my hip which is huuuuugeeee. Basically I slammed my weight down on the arm of a seat at college and have left a mark. Owy. I’m also RH Negative and fell on my ass the other day at home. Pup helped and licked my face as I sat on the floor clutching my aching foot. My instant question was, was it bad enough to need the Anti D jab? Now you get this for having a negative blood type. You need it so that your body does not produce antibodies or something. Well I decided it wasn’t that bad. I hadn’t bashed bump, I wasn’t aching anywhere in the midsection or back. Figured I would ignore it and will ask the nurse at my 24 week appointment. Hopefully I’ve done the right thing.

In other news my 20 week appointment was one of the most depressing experiences of my life. I went in expecting to be scanned and was handed a number. I sat down in the waiting area to be told you don’t get scanned at all at 20 weeks and to go wait to be called by a nurse. Well 10 minutes and a lot of anger later I got called for my blood pressure. (Which was now high due to the stress) The nurse ignored the majority of comments I made and seemed more focussed on getting me out of there. Typically they were busy despite it only being 8.45am. I was then told that I would need a blood test and to wait again with my number. A few minutes later I got called by the probably only pleasant experience of the morning. A lovely nurse needed to take my blood and optimistically stabbed in my elbow worrying about my warnings that it would be difficult to get blood from me. It of course didn’t work at all. I recommended my upper arm as this is where has been successful in the past. She uttered that she had never taken blood from there before and called over another pleasant colleague who too had never taken blood from there. They tried though. And with many giggles managed to get the vein and some blood about half way down the tube before it stopped and refused to give anymore. That’s right, the tube. Not even the vial. At this point about 20 minutes had passed and they were giving up. I offered the other arm which nobody has ever got blood from before. The second nurse looks at the back of my hand and goes yep we’ll try here. She stabbed as hard as she fucking could into the back of my hand. They managed a 3/4 of a vial. To note for each of these they used the smaller needles that they normally use on babies. My veins are just that shit. Again I was told to go wait and I would see the OB. Now I’ve never met my OB. It’s guy called John though I know that much. We waited and eventually were called by a small Indian woman. She told us to sit down and I can only assume she was the dr we would be seeing that morning. She asked if I was well, scribbled in my notes and asked if I had any questions. Yeah, where the fuck was the scan I was told I would have? Well she said she could do one for us and dragged us to her rubbish machine. She roughly handled my fat (Yeah, I did notice her lack of gentle manner) and quickly scans me. We ask about gender and she says she can’t tell at all. Barely looks really, says everything seems fine though and within 20 seconds we were done. She asked if I had felt baby moving and I said not really. It’s my first, I’m a larger girl. It will happen though. She scribbles on my notes and says be back in 12 weeks. That’s right I’m not seen at the hospital again until 32 weeks. Looking at my notes she had written “no fetal movement yet” and with a big arrow pointing to it wrote “High BMI” – Well she was fucking tactful. I left the hospital angry and upset and in the most classy way sat with Kim in the Tesco car park crying my eyes out at the experience. A nice day off to relax had been ruined by the professionals that are meant to care about people’s well-being. If you ever plan on having children, don’t bother in Ireland. It’s a frustrating experience.

It got better though. We rang a private clinic here in Cork (Babyscan) and asked if they could do a gender scan for us. It would cost but if it went well would make up for so much that the healthcare system had put us through. 18 months of waiting for a referral, cattle like systems of appointments, dr’s and nurses with just no time for you. They said they’d ring us with an appointment otherwise it would be Wednesday afternoon. Well Saturday afternoon we got a call back that someone had cancelled and would we like their place. We snapped it up and took the 20 minute drive to the clinic. It was quiet, relaxing and all the staff were pleasant. The receptionist couldn’t get my name right but with her accent I didn’t realise until she put it on paper. At that point I didn’t have the heart to correct her. We get called in for our scan after 15 minutes and it’s all smiles and excitement. Me and Kim are happy to announce we’re having a little girl. I have been convinced boy since day 1. I should have known with a family of all girls that a girl was more likely but I didn’t realise. We’re over the moon though. The appointment was exactly what I needed. It wiped out the majority of bad memories from the previous week. We’re having a little baby girl. Don’t know if that will ever lose it’s magic.

We’ve picked our names from before we even got pregnant. Elizabeth Marie. Beth for short. Found out today that a friend had had his little girl and called her Bethan. Was a little peeved that she will technically have the same shortened name we will but I just like to think that our Beth will be cuter, smarter and all those other things that parents believe about their children. Besides the names are family names so we get +1 to the choices already anyways. I’ve also been feeling her move a little more the last few days. Not like kicks or anything but like tickles. It’s difficult to describe but I know it’s her and it happens more and more each day it seems.

My next appointment is at 24 weeks with my local nurse. She’s nice and I’m hoping to god she can give me something for my sickness or I’m not going to make it through the GTT test I need. We’ll see how that goes and I’ll probably report back with all that too.

Pregnancy update

So I’ve been avoiding posting pregnancy related things as 1, a lot of people don’t enjoy hearing about it and 2, not a lot of what I have to say is the lovely joys that others seem to be blogging about. I think it’s about time that I let the world know how I’m feeling at  19 weeks 5 days.

First thing though. Ireland sucks balls for care for pregnant women. I just found at that our 20 week “anomaly” scan is just a quick scan. They won’t do a thorough check like they would in the UK unless you are high risk. Why? Because of funds and the abortion laws over here. An entire country ran on religion still. I shouldn’t moan. I could just leave this place but it’s silly in this day an age to not give people this choice. I saw people as  I don’t believe it’s simply a woman’s choice. It is something that affects a whole family and everyone should be able to have a say. Not my place to judge that though and this isn’t what this is about. I guess I’m annoyed with it because I just want everything to be ok after this long and I don’t want to go through everything just to go through a loss that could have prevented or at least eased somewhat.

Now the update part. I have mostly hated being pregnant. 2 1/2 years and yes I’m grateful. I’m happy to be in this situation but I’m so tired and fed up with it that I would happily sleep through the next 20 weeks without a doubt. The morning sickness of the first few weeks developed into something else after 13 weeks. It was like morning sickness for the lazy. No longer can I sleep through a night without wanting to eat. I have to be up around 6.30/7am because any later my stomach will destroy itself and I’m sick. I’ve tried eating in bed, doesn’t work. I’ve tried eating before bed, doesn’t work. I’ve tried different foods, doesn’t work. Nearly 20 weeks and still suffering. And is it just in the morning? Nope it’s whenever I leave food a little too late. I need to eat every 2 hours or so and a quick nibble of something means nothing. I have to eat a meal to get satisfaction and I WILL be starving very soon after. At this rate I will be a globe. Then there is the acid reflux. Since 10 weeks everything I eat sets it off, this is probably what is causing the sickness. I’m drinking Gaviscon from the bottle to ease it because nothing else does. I’m waking up to 4/5 times a night to pee, something which they promised would ease off by the second trimester. I’m tired constantly and not just from the lack of sleep. I’m worn out, fatigued, exhausted, ka-put… And with that comes the annoying one I’m out of breath pretty much all the time. I walk up the stairs and I have to catch my breath. I’m unfit but jesus not that bad. Again I’m grateful to know this is all normal and there are parts I enjoy. The bump (which is mostly a B bump than the D skinnies have) is a nice change to pancake layers of fat I’ve had in the past. My boobs haven’t really changed apart from becoming firmer. They remind me of a cheap porn star. Kim really doesn’t mind this at all. Buying things is nice as I don’t have to worry about my sizes for them. Except maternity clothes and that will just set me off on my ultimate rage. Why the fuck do designers/shops insist on only making skinny jeans? I’m a large girl, hell I won’t beat around the bush, I’m fat. The last thing people need to see if my tubby waddling ass and legs looking like a poorly butchered set of denim sausages. Designers! Get some fatties and design proper clothes for us ¬¬ Ok…Breath…Buying things is nice. A friend of mine has just got us an N7 Babygro for Wiggly. N7 by the way is my much-loved Mass Effects elite fighting force. I’m looking forward to it arriving and eventually showing off Wiggly in it looking like a bad ass.

Anyways I’ve ranted away and people will probably think I should shut up for those who would be grateful to be in my situation. To them I apologise but for fucks sake pregnancy is not the whole glowing beautiful smugness that everyone makes it out to me. What to Expect, 9 months…Even Junior – You lied to me! You lied!!!