6 Weeks In
So, I’m half way through the first trimester. And this week has been hard.
Last weekend, I was virtually wiped out by the nausea and tiredness. But then I had such a busy week at work I didn’t have time to be ill.
Tuesday, wifey and I went to the cinema to see a comedy about a surrogate mum. It was actually quite funny, if a little weird to think we were really going down that road ourselves. The baby bit, not the surrogacy obviously! Then we went for pizza and I picked at my food and barely made it home without collapsing I was so tired.
On Wednesday, my sister asked me to join her at a public consultation, so my plans for an easy evening went out the window – I spent 5 hours stood in a freezing cold room at West Ham’s football ground talking to idiots who can’t see the wood for the trees. And standing is not fun when your uterus is stretching beyond all recognition!!
Then Thursday, my last day in the office for 2 weeks, so loads to get done, not helped by the afternoon out the day before. Heather had her 30th birthday drinks in a tapas bar after work, so I went along, and was immediately handed a glass and someone started pouring sangria into it. I told her I didn’t drink so only a bit, and then bought a bottle of lemonade to dilute it a bit. But I felt so bad – all these months not drinking, then suddenly, the month I get pregnant, I drink twice! Kind of ironic really! But the amount of alcohol in what I had must have been negligible to be honest, so it’s not all bad!
Friday was our staff away day. First off there was some problem with the buses so I stood at a stop for 15 minutes in the hot sun before I could go meet my sister and our colleague to help with the refreshments for the day. By the time I got there, they were done, so I didn’t get any breakfast like I’d planned.
We walked up to the city farm, and the smells hit me almost immediately – if this wasn’t a test for my nausea nothing was!
As it turned out, being out in the sunshine really made me feel good and apart from needing to sit down a lot and not really wanting to eat, I had a pretty good day. I even managed the sports day games we played at lunch without getting indigestion.
The evening was spent in a boutique hotel with a barbecue and drinks. By 8pm I was hitting the wall again and just had to go home. I actually thought it was nearer 21.30, so was a bit surprised when I called wifey to find it was only 20.15!
I struggled home with a bag full of spare cans and cookies for wifey and my mum called to wish me a good trip. Then I went to bed as I could barely talk anymore. When wifey came to bed an hour later, I woke up with a start and spent an hour fighting the nausea again before finally getting to sleep.
Yesterday we just had a lazy day again, and I felt pretty bad all through it – the hardest part is not being hungry at all, and just thinking about food makes me feel sick. No-one told me it would be like this – I naively expected to wake up in the morning, throw up and that be it for the day! How wrong I was!
We went to the opera last night and it was good, but again the 8 o’clock wall came and I had to struggle to get through the second half. I grabbed a smoothie and pasta salad on the way home, about the only things I could manage. But then I got really bad indigestion which didn’t help the walk home from the bus.
And so to today. I am just over halfway to San Francisco. Me and pip are on our first flight together. So far it’s not been too bad – I had some crisps before I left and bought a big bottle of water and some boiled sweets. I’ve watched 2 films, read some of my new book and even slept a little. The nausea from this morning seems to have gone, but my tits are killing me and I’m starting to feel tired. I’ve just got to make it to the hotel and then I’ll be ok. As long as I don’t have to stand in any long lines when I arrive it shouldn’t be too bad.
It would be nice to just go to sleep now until we land, but my brain is still wide awake and buzzing away with thoughts that stop me sleeping. And the danger with sleeping is the nausea when I wake up. So it’s catch 22 – I sleep and risk feeling sick afterwards. Or I stay awake and risk the wall making me so tired I feel sick anyway. I can’t win.
I’m sure this will all be worth it in the end, but another 6 weeks feeling like this really isn’t too appealing. And I’ve started to really panic about actually being a mum. I think I’m going to be crap and let it down. How can I even begin to be a good mum when I love work and my independence so much? And I hate body fluids so nappy-changing, baby sick and all the other gross things that babies do fill me with absolute dread.
This is real now, and I’m scared.