I HATED BEING PREGNANT!!!
There, I said it. Some of you will have laughed, some of you will have drawn a sharp intake of breath that I could dare suggest that I didn’t enjoy it, and others of you will have silently gone “Me too”.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved the outcome, but the whole ‘cooking’ and delivery process this time round was nothing short of hideous.
With E, I was really lucky. I had a fantastic pregnancy. I had hardly any sickness at all, I got that wonderful pregnancy ‘bloom’ people talk about and generally it was a smooth 9 months. It wasn’t without it’s difficult bits. Extra scans as they thought E might be small, but she was safely delivered, in a fairly easy delivery, at 41 weeks exactly.
And so, I mistakenly thought that pregnancy number 2 would be similar. How bloody wrong was I?
We were both delighted when we got that positive test, and the second, and the third! And then the sickness kicked in. Why in earth they call it morning sickness I will never know. It’s more morning, non, night and anytime you try and eat or drink sickness. It started at 5 weeks and finally, after some assistance from some magic tablets, disappeared about 28 weeks only to come back with avengence at 33. My lack of appetite and this dreaded sickness probably goes someway to explain the 9kg I lost whilst pregnant.
SPD – 3 magic little letters that get banded about a lot. I never ever realised how bloody painful it would be. I couldn’t go up and down the stairs properly, I couldn’t lift Ellie up and even walking to the loo became painful. Just hideous!!!
At our 28 week scan, as I had expected, we got the ‘we think your baby is going to be small’ line. I thought here we go again and that was about it.
What followed from 32 weeks was nothing short of ghastly. Not in a gruesome way, just in a mentally and emotionally exhausting way. My movements reduced from 30+ an hour to not even 10 a day, she hardly grew some weeks, we went to the hospital everyday for monitoring of some form, there was all the worry with her heart, it was just too much.
You will always worry about your unborn child, but this got ridiculous. I know I worry a lot, but most of it was justified in this instance. The worry led to sleepless nights, the sleepless nights led to sickness, the more sickness the less I could eat, the little I ate resulted in a massive lack of energy needed to deal with the worry and the day to day doings of being Mummy to a toddler and a wife.
I was tearful, I was grumpy, my skin hurt to touch, I was so uncomfortable in my own skin I sat on my hands to stop scratching it. I would snap at the tiniest of things, and I would cry at next to nothing. My hormones were off the scale most of the time. I honestly do wonder how Chris put up with me!
But it was all worth it in the end – just know there will never be a next time. Our family is very much complete!