Finally all is right in matrimonial land. Chef came home last night, gave me a hug, cried and apologised. He simply freaked out. Not only was he coming to terms with us being pregnant, he was now adjusting to the chance we could loose it.
Anyway, had a dating scan today. We are having a jelly bean with a heartbeat.
Why does everything smell so bad in the first trimester?
Why did I go from craving milk (and drinking way too many Mango smoothies and eating way too much yoghurt) to only being able to stomach Frosty Fruits, lemon barley cordial (with ice – and I HATE cold drinks), and vegemite on toast or SAOs in the space of a week?
How, on that diet can my girth be growing so rapidly?
A friend of mine, Bec, has three children – when the twins were about one, yes, twins, she burst into tears on me and said, I really do love them, but there’s just so many of them. Is this the life for which we are headed?
Why does a pregancy make you instantly want a new car and a complete home refurbishment?
Why men, when they know they’ve made you mad, don’t say sorry, just skulk around and MAKE YOU EVEN MADDER.
Why chocolate has to be so high in fat.
Things I HATE
People on the bus who
– listen to music so loudly through their headphones they might as well be carrying a portable stereo system and running a disco
– the same people as all they listen to is dance CRAP
– men who fail to see the merits of deodorant. WHY???
Bleeding has finally stopped. Dating scan booked for today week. If the cell-multiplier is still doing so, that is when we’ll know.
The growth of my girth has been so substantial over the last four days I will be shocked rather than upset if it hasn’t decided to hang on for the ride. Although, the significant comfort eating that has ensued since domestic dispute on Thursday night and inexplicable ‘spotting’ may have contributed to that somewhat.
Felix had school photos today – hair was washed AND brushed. Miracle.
Oscar had the best attempt at saying umbrella tonight – v.v. exciting. Also managed Mumbo – as I am being a bad parent reading them stories I loved as a child – eg, The Little Black Sambo.
Well, we’re entering into week 8. If week 7 was anything to go by its going to be a pretty bumby ride.
Chef came home early from work on Wednesday with gastro. I’d felt off all day but put it down to tiredness/morning sickness. Anyway, we got to about 6pm and bang, the spewing started.
He was in bed and had been since he got home, so Mum had been on kid duty, not even realising Chef was home in bed. I got the kids through dinner, bath and bedtime and then collapsed on the lounge in between bouts of vomiting and diarrhoea. Nice I know.
Anyway, the night before, I’d had a bright red bleed, so was pretty anxious as it was. It had turned to old blood on Wednesday, but still enough to put ‘dots’ on the pad. Then I got a temperature.
Two things you MUST avoid in first trimester – any virus and temperatures. So I was feeling pretty peachy as the baby was conceived when I was on antibiotics AND taking the pill. If this kid comes out half normal we’ll be laughing.
So – at 10 that night, I call labour floor and ask for their suggestions. They’re relpy goes along the lines of, if you’re miscarrying, which it sounds like you are, then we can’t and won’t do anything to stop it. They suggested I go to our local hospital, get a maxalon shot and try and rest. So off I go.
Sweet, sweet maxolon. oh beautiful drug to make the pain go away. Four hours and one shot in the arse later, I was on my way home. Told to REST.
I get into bed at around 1am. The next morning, CHEF DOES NOT EVEN GET UP AND HELP ME WITH THE CHILDREN. I mean, if your partner is going through a suspected miscarriage, wouldn’t you FRIGGIN’ GET OUT OF BED? No matter how sick you are? But no, not only did he stay in bed, EVEN AFTER I had let him sleep the whole afternoon and evening the night before as I was vomitting and pooing AS WELL – he couldn’t even do that.
He hasn’t apologised since, he hasn’t asked how I am, he hasn’t asked about the bleeding and HE HAS SLEPT IN EVERY SINGLE DAY since then.
I SOOOOO love it when my husband checks out of our marriage and our family.
I knew something was going on when, on Monday after enroling in my Masters at UTS, all I wanted was a mango smoothie.
How does something like that come into your head as a food of desire. Sure, a mango smoothie is good, but faced with an hour bus ride home, it should not EVER top the list. But, it did. And suddenly it dawned on me, the last time I craved dairy was when pregnant with Oscar.
So five days late we do the test.
It’s saying positive in about 5 seconds.
So, one ‘incident’, the mini pill and severe bronchitis treated with antibiotics = pregnancy.
And let that be a lesson to you all.
I am in this weird world – excitement at the cells multiplying inside my belly, relief that I shall soon (sooner than really should be necessary) will be returning to the land of big undies and elastisied pants.
Being the third time around I now look about 3 months pregant at 5 weeks. Encouraging hah.
Funny, the first time you don’t tell anyone, the second time you leak it to a few friends before family, the third time, you tell your cleaner (to find out about her family daycare arrangements), your friend with twins, and your swim coach (as a great excuse as to why you are STILL the slowest).
Family still doesn’t know – think we’re in too much shock to tell them quite frankly, and worried their response will be alarmingly negative.
We are however, BUSTING to tell the boys.
Chef’s first reply to me was, “well, you didn’t have sex with me this month”, then, “oh my god” and then, I can’t remember, lots of rubbing hands on face, shaking head and sort of muttering.
So, third time around, soon to be outnumbered by offspring, here we go…