Thoughts for those less fortunate

We had some friends over for dinner last week. They are expecting their first child in October, and like us, had no trouble falling pregnant. They told us about some of their friends who have not been so fortunate. Maybe it was the hormones, but I was quite upset by their tale.

Their friend, Marilyn, had had lots of trouble carrying a child, and had suffered from a number of miscarriages before finally making it past the first trimester. She was midway through her final trimester, at 32 weeks when she noticed that her baby had stopped moving. She went to the hospital for an ultrasound, only to discover that her baby's heart had stopped beating. I can't even begin to imagine the grief that Marilyn and her partner are suffering. They had to have the baby, name her, put her through an autopsy, and a funeral. I shed a quiet tear for Marilyn and her husband. I wish them long life. My heart goes out to them and to all those families who struggle through the loss of a child, or much wanted baby.

Meantime I say a quiet prayer for the continued good health of our son and the child that grows within.

The nausea has arrived...

Today, about 10am it hit me. The nausea that is. It's not too bad (yet) but I wonder what I was thinking this time yesterday when I was wondering why I was feeling so well - did karma do this to me or was it coming along anyway? Who knows.

I fell asleep at lunchtime today. For about 15 minutes. I was sitting in a comfy lounge chair reading my book when I found I couldn't keep my eyes open - so I shut them. Only to find myself fast asleep - I've really got to limit my sleeping to when i'm on public transport!

Week 6

I've arrived at week 6, and despite my dire predictions, I still feel fine. Completely fine. Not at all pregnant. I wonder if I should be concerned as I know when people are really feeling crook people say that it's a good sign. Is the reverse a bad sign?

Well despite the lack of nausea, I'm still suffering from exhaustion. Most often at about 4pm, when I'm ready to chuck it in and go to bed. Haven't managed it yet - the bed in our sick room is uncomfortably tempting, but I haven't given in yet.

Work this week hasn't been as bad as expected either. I wasn't needed at the Monday night meeting, and I left my Tuesday night meeting at 9pm so I coped OK. I decided to share my news with one of work colleagues. I wasn't sure how she'd take it given she has had some trouble falling pregnant, and we managed it at the drop of a hat. I shouldn't have worried, she seemed genuinely excited for me which was lovely. It also means that I have someone I can complain to about the hours I'm putting in without it seeming unusual and strange. This week is going to be difficult. I'm supposed to be out of the house every single night. I hope Master 2 remembers me at the weekend. Fortunately I still have my mid week day off to share with him so it shouldn't be too bad.

It's funny you know, while I don't feel particularly pregnant I'm very aware of it. I was at my parents place for dinner this week, and my Dad asked me if I wanted a beer. I replied "that's a silly question" and my Mum looked at me strangely and said "why?". I waited a minute to see if she was pulling my leg then said "I'm pregnant". At which point she blinked twice quickly and then said something like "your father is going have to be careful about not putting you in that situation". Bizarre really.

That's it for now. If you're reading this, and you think of something please make a comment. Then I know someone else is reading it...

til next time...

The first couple of weeks...

One week into my journey - well the first week that I really knew I was on this journey - proves difficult.

We decide that our news, while welcome and exciting is probably best kept close to home. One in 3 pregnancies end in miscarriage and we don't want to have too many people in the loop in case things don't work out - we figure that dealing with that possibility requires a few close friends for support but that's about it. We decide to tell my parents, and some of our closest friends as well as another friend who had numerous miscarriages herself so that if things go pear shaped we have a tight support network who can help us through it. My parents were less excited than they were with the news of Master 2 (who was the first grandchild) but they had company when we told them so didn't want to have to answer any questions. I told one friend who was so excited that hubby insisted on telling the next person on speaker phone so he could hear the reaction. He was very pleased with the squeals of delight that emanated from the phone.

Back to reality there's work to do and secrets to keep so gotta keep soldiering on. Fortunately nausea hasn't yet set in (I reckon I've got another 4 days until it hits) so it's just the exhaustion I have to try and hide. Which is difficult when at least 3 of my colleagues know we're thinking of having a 2nd child and one is 32 weeks pregnant and very aware of the symptoms.

So week one I have 2 consecutive days of delivering training that I'd forgotten about (another symptom??). Worse is that i'd previously agreed to speak at an event after work after the first day of training - an event that started at 6pm and didn't finish until 8.45pm. I have no idea how I got through it. But I did.

With this week, week 2, comes the Federal Budget. An announcement on Mothers Day that they are going to be introducing a system of paid parental leave for the first time in Australia. I am so excited because I've been involved in the campaign. I'm a bit disappointed because the date of introduction is so far away that we'll miss out - not that I can tell anyone. At work, my pregnant colleague is sick 4 of 5 days so one less person I have to avoid feeling sleepy around.

Thursday arrives and I'm going to a celebration about the campaign to introduce paid parental leave. I was going to go just with my boss but 2 of my colleagues decide to come at the last minute. I'm very pleased. They (we??) decide to go to the pub first.

The Pub.

I decide the best way to handle this is to pretend nothing's changed. Which isn't easy cause I usually drink beer - and i'm not drinking anything alcoholic now, or for the foreseeable future. So I figure out that if I buy the round i've got more control over facilitating this charade. The others decide what they want, I tell them I'm buying, but the bar is small, and quiet (we're the only ones there). I try and tell the bar tender that I want an OJ in a small glass (the sort they use for mixed drinks), she's not very quiet about asking her colleague how much to charge me for it. I want to scream, "I don't care, charge me full price just shut up about it!". But I don't. The others don't seem to notice. I pretend I have vodka in my drink. We go to the celebration.

Formal proceedings over there is a help yourself bar (wine, beer, juice, soft drink and champagne). I try to surrupticiously help myself to a champagne glass with only a finger of champagne in it (I can pretend to drink). One of my colleagues notices and I said that I didn't want to mix drinks and there wasn't any vodka. Unbelievably she doesn't take it any further. Later on I get a wine glass and drink apple juice out of it. The other colleague notices and calls me on it - I tell her it's apple juice (I didn't want to drink out of a plastic cup) and that mixing the champagne and vodka didn't agree with me. Bah. This is bullshit. I don't want to lie to these people. I just want to not be in these situations. Oh well. Let's hope I can avoid The Pub for a while.

Friday I spend out of the office with one of my team - lots of train travel (alone) = extra sleep time. Could be worse.

I think the next couple of weeks will be challenging. This week I'm due to work both Mon and Tues night, same with next week, and Mon the week after. Not sure I can keep up the facade. We have a function on in 2 weeks to celebrate my boss's 25 years in the organisation. There will be lots of alchohol. Gotta figure out a strategy soon.

My journey began just over 5 weeks ago - but really it was only 3.

In fact, I think it may have been the day after "I fell" that I realised I was pregnant. I was sitting at my desk at work, it was not quite 8am and I was feeling as though I hadn't slept for weeks.

I was truly exhausted.

I also had swollen glans - so I took myself off to the doctor in the local medical centre for a blood test to see if it was all in my imagination. Have you been to a medical centre in the city lately? I haven't - in fact, it had been so long that my medicare card had expired since I was last there. I waited in a queue to be put into the queue to see a doctor. Then I sat in a chair for again what seemed like hours (and in fact was probably over an hour), almost falling asleep, but hoping each time a doctor came along that it was my name s/he would read out.

Finally, a doctor called my name (he even pronounced it correctly - miracle of miracles) - when I sat down he asked me where I was born. I replied "here" (meaning Sydney) and he asked if I meant the suburb that my parents live in. Surprised I said "yes". It turns out that he was a doctor at the practice that my family went to when I was a little girl - which was how he knew how to pronounce my surname! He then mused for a while at the smallness of the world (while I tried to figure out how old that made him - very!) and asked after my mother... then he said "you know, you look like your mother". Fortunately for him I figured out that the last time he'd seen my mum she probably was only about 5 years older than I am now - AND he was far enough away that I couldn't slap him.

So after 2 queues to see the good Doc, it turns out that he doesn't draw the blood himself - I had to take myself to the "treatment room" (and another queue) where I sat for another 1/2 hour waiting to get my blood taken. There was a lovely woman who, like all those before her struggled to find a vein in my right arm. She finally found one in my left arm and I remembered all the needles that come with being pregnant.

I struggled through the next two days before I get the test results. I find myself waiting in the 2nd queue again and wondering whether I'm hoping that the test is positive or negative. While like lots of our friends our first experience with getting pregnant was amazingly simple, lots of those same friends took much longer to conceive their second. Hubby remarked that he hoped this time it might take a bit longer so he could have more "practice". I think though the reality wouldn't be nearly so pleasant. I'd challenge him to talk to the husbands of our friends who, 3 years later, still aren't pregnant and be careful what he wishes for. Doc familiar calls my name and into his office I go - still trying to figure out exactly how old he must be (they all seem old, the docs at the medical centre)... he asks if I told my mother i'd seen him (I hadn't - that would have meant lots of questions)... Then proceeds to go through my bloodwork. I'm holding my breath. You're iron deficient he tells me - that would explain the tiredness. Ok, so I'll take some supplements... get on with it... am I?

And then he says it. Pregnancy test - negative.

My heart sinks - guess I wanted it to be positive.

On the plus side, I could tell my mum about Doc familiar and have a perfectly rational explanation for the visit.

I call hubby and let him know the news. But i'm still exhausted a week later, by now the iron supplements should have started working - and my lower back is really sore. I think it's possible I might be pregnant - so what's with the blood test. I do some research (gotta love google) only to discover that the blood test was far too early and wouldn't have picked up a pregancy at that stage. I wonder why Doc familiar didn't know this or if he did why he didn't tell me it was too early. Is this just him or an indictment of medical centres in general?

It comes time for my monthly "friend" to arrive. No sign - do I pee on a stick? Are you that regular hubby asks? How the bloody hell should I know, i've only been off the pill for 2 months and that's hardly an indication. The instruction booklet says "it's best to use first morning wee" as it's been in your bladder for the longest - so first thing in the morning I pee on a stick (and kinda all over me - does anyone know how to do it without making a mess?). I go and get my son (Master 2) some milk, change his nappy get him up, and walk back into the bathroom to find 2 lines on the test. For those of you unfamiliar - good news! You're up the Duff!

The Journey Begins....

Inspired by a fellow traveller I have decided to keep a blog of my journey to parenthood - the second time.

I hope that you'll enjoy my musings, make lots of comments and join me on this amazing journey.