A kicking baby

My latest post is at my ‘real’ blog narrating kayoz. It’s about being seventeen weeks pregnant, feeling the baby move, and being completely over the first trimester depression. And feeling a really big kick tonight, earlier than I did with either of the other kids.

I’m still a little ambivalent about where I blog – blogging over there, with the awareness that not only my blog community, but also most of the rest of my community, will potentially be reading (via facebook), does affect how frank I am about some things. But it had started to feel too weird to blog over there and not mention the pregnancy at all – I tend to have a lot of blog posts that combine different subjects. So I’m updating there now instead of here, and eventually I’ll import all these posts into that blog and close this one down completely.

In the meantime, the first trimester remains here, but for future posts see narrating kayoz.

The baby has a heartbeat!

I can’t believe I didn’t blog last week about hearing the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. I ‘facebooked’ it – yes, I’m not being secretive anymore* – and emailed a couple of people, and forgot all about blogging.

I had my last check-up with my fabulous GP, before my equally fabulous midwife takes over. It took him ages to find the heartbeat, while I was lying there thinking my every fear was being realised. He did say something like “Sometimes it pops right up, and sometimes it just takes a while,” which was sort of reassuring but… well, only sort-of. But eventually he did find it, and it was all good.

I had moreorless made it completely public before then, but I had still felt a little bit cagey about it – like I should just hedge my bets or something – until hearing the heartbeat. I think partly because I’m in a ‘due date’ group on essential baby and almost everyone there has had at least one scan already (the 12 weeks ‘Downs’ scan), if not a couple.  So to have not even heard the heartbeat, much less had an ultrasound, was feeling almost weird.

But now, I look pregnant, I feel pregnant but in a much better way than I did in the first trimester (still nauseous, but not nearly as much/badly, and without the depression), and I’ve heard the heartbeat. It is all seeming pretty good, and pretty real.

And I’ve got my first appointment with my midwife on Friday.

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*Must import these posts into my other blog soon, and then I guess close this one down…

Thirteen weeks and dreaming of triplets

Last night I dreamed that I gave birth to triplets. Three identical girl children. The dream was set the day after they were born, and surprisingly I don’t seem to have been too shocked. I named them – temporarily – One, Two, and Three. Just until I could come up with appropriate names, so I could remember which ones I’d fed.

Amazingly, one of them (number One) could already walk. Two could almost walk as well – she could stand up anyway – but Three was no where near. In my dream I thought that was pretty surprising. When I woke up, I realised that they also looked like they were about a year or maybe 18 months old, but that didn’t strike me as odd at all in my dream. Although I do remember thinking that as they were so big – especially One and Two – maybe I could feel them solids straight away, and One did seem to take to yoghurt quite well.

In other news, I am now 13 weeks (and two day) along. And I had three days this week when I didn’t feel too bad. Monday was dreadul, but the next three days more than made up for it. Today is back to normal – nauseous, but bearable. Last weekend I tried some of those travel sickness acupressure wrist bands, but they didn’t seem to help. After Monday I gave them up as a lost cause.

Up to now I’ve had my usual first trimester mild depression going one, wondering why on earth we are doing this to ourselves. But just today I am starting to feel good about it again. I definitely look pregnant now, and I guess feeling a bit better this week doesn’t hurt either. So I’m starting – just starting mind you – to feel again the magic of pregnancy; of the idea of having a baby growing in my womb, and of next year adding that baby to our family. It’s still a daunting concept – and I am praying the dream doesn’t prove in anyway prophetic! But I am feeling happy about it all again, at least today. And that does feel rather good.

Bad dreams and blood tests

The night before last I dreamed I had a miscarriage. It was quite graphic – went to the loo and there was a little bit of pink on the toilet paper, but within seconds it progressed to large clots coming out.

In the dream I went and lay down on my bed and spent half an hour trying to get through to my GP. Finally got the receptionist on the phone and practically yelled at her (not my usual style) that I had to talk to my doctor NOW.

I suspect the dream was brought on by me saying to Chris earlier in the day that now that I’m eleven weeks pregnant (which I was on that day) I am suddenly feeling more confident. I mean, I thought I was already pretty confident, but somehow, realising I was just one week off 12 weeks, made quite a difference. But shortly after that I read in an online forum about someone having a miscarriage at 10 weeks, and someone else who had (in the past) had a missed miscarriage at eleven weeks. Now, I knew this could happen, of course, but reading about it right then I guess sapped some of that newfound confidence.

When I woke up, it took me a moment to realise that it was just a dream, and I was still pregnant.

In other news, I finally had the usual blood tests last week, at 10 weeks and 1 day, and all was good – including good HCG and progesterone levels. Which, of course, is also reassuring.

Edited to add: PS Am still feeling nauseous all day long and suffering reflux, but it *may* be slightly less awful than it was two weeks ago.

Eight weeks (yesterday)

Nausea is getting worse, reflux is getting worse. Why on earth did I do this to myself?

Seven weeks pregnant* – one week of nausea, ten to go.

Ick.

I feel sick. All the time. Why, I keep asking myself, would anyone do this to themselves voluntarily? I mean, the first time, okay, you don’t know what it’ll be like. The second time, maybe, but a third time? That’s just masochistic.

The thing is, it’s hard to remember how horrid being nauseous feels, until you feel it again.  In fact, I remember that when I was pregnant with Mikaela, I was sort of looking forward to the ‘morning’ sickness, as confirmation that everything was okay. But, I also remember that once it hit I was miserable with it, even though it didn’t seem to be as bad as it was with Liam. So this time I knew better than to look forward to it. And this time I swear if anything it’s worse than it was with Liam. Damn it I hate it. Doesn’t help that the reflux has set in early again either.

Okay, so pregnancy symptoms at seven weeks:

• Did I mention nausea? all day, without surcease? Actually, that’s not quite right. It’s all day except (sometimes) when I’m eating. Meaning I am destined to put on about 20kilos over this pregnant, despite my best intentions not to this time.
• Light headed-ness, on and off
• occasional pubic symphasis pain
• mild insomnia
• metallic taste
• the cramping has mostly settled down
• exhaustion: serious, utter exhaustion
• relatively mild reflux
• mild depression
• and did I mention? I feel sick.

edited to add:

• ridiculously sensitive sense of smell (not a blessing)
• nastily dry skin

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* I know I  said I was counting the week change on Tuesday even though it was technically Wednesday. Well, I changed my mind. Today is Wednesday, and I am seven weeks along.  Roll on February.