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.

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

__________________

* 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.

Six weeks

Actually, I realised that I’ve been counting the weeks wrong. My last period started on a Wednesday, so I’ve been counting Tuesday as the end of the week. But technically, I’m not six weeks along until some time on the Wednesday. But for now I’m going to stick with this count because a) it makes me feel further along; and b) I usually ovulate early anyway.

So, six weeks. I’ve been feeling more and more nausea, but it’s not yet constant and really not too bad. More queasiness than nausea really. Did I mention the horrible metallic taste? I’m starting to get used to it. I’m absolutely exhausted all the time, but since I am *still* sick – and in fact picked up Liam’s cold on top of my previous bug this past weekend – it’s hard to tell what’s caused by pregnancy and what’s caused by general illness. I’ve been sick for 4.5 weeks now.

I haven’t had a blood test (I’m talking pregnancy again now, not sickness, even though I’ve joked on facebook that I must have consumption, or at the very least swineflu!). I was going to go ask my GP for one, but I’m thinking I’ll probably just wait until the next time I see him. After all, I’ve had all the screening tests before, and as they say, peeing on a stick is really just as accurate these days. The only reason I’d like a blood test really is to reassure myself that all is well, that my HCG count is where it should be. But really, I’m a week past the point where I had the miscarriage last time, the first m/c was even earlier, I’m starting to feel symptoms, and the inital test result was strong (which it wasn’t with either of the miscarriages).

So, although of course something could still go wrong, I am feeling pretty positive. We haven’t told the kids yet, and last time we waited to get that good HCG result before we told Liam. But that was at five weeks. So I’m thinking now I might do another pregnancy test (I have two left), and then – assuming it’s good – we’ll tell them. It’s a little different because Mikaela is a bit younger than Liam was, and I also think she seems a lot younger to us because now we have a seven year old. But once I start feeling truly awful – which I’m sure is coming – I think I’d have a hard time keeping it from Liam. And I’d kind of like to tell them about it before it’s making me completely miserable!

edited to add: Also I’ve been having bouts of insomnia, waking up in the night and unable to get back to sleep. I’d put it down to being sick and miserable with the phlegm, but I see that I had the same thing last time.

This is the last time…

Back when I was first trying to get pregnant with Mikaela (and more than a year before I actually succeeded) I wrote about not being sure if we would go for a third child or not:

But the thing is, I don’t feel like this pregnancy – the one I am hoping to embark on very soon – is going to be my last. I feel like if it were, I would need to know that now. I would need to be able to say to myself, this is the last time I will be doing this. Pay attention.

Well, this time I know. This time (assuming all goes well), will be the last time. I’m under no illusions, I’m sure there are still times in the future, as this child gets older, that I’ll wish for another baby.

When Mikaela was a newborn, I remember sitting in the rocking chair, rocking her to sleep, and thinking to myself that I just hadto do this again. I might get that same sense next time, but I’m pretty sure I won’t ever seriously consider a forth. For one thing Chris will be 41 soon. And I will be 38 before this baby is born. But for more importantly, I just feel that three children will be right for us. It’s my template for what a ‘real’ family is, being one of three myself. And frankly, I think it will be enough!

So, this is my last pregnancy. This is the last time to feel this tiny changes in my body, to experience this sense of wonder, followed (presumably) by weeks of nausea and crankiness – and later by rather less tiny changes.

I’m grateful to myself for recording details of the previous pregnancies, like this one on symptoms at eight weeks-odd, that tells me that I started feeling nauseous all day at six-and-a-half weeks, and these ones about the desire to be secretive or to keep things private, or this one, from when I was 27 weeks along with Liam and felt invaded by people’s glances:

“It’s my belly,” I want to yell at them, “Keep your eyes to yourself.”

I’d forgotten my ambivalence last time about having the ultrasound, when the time came (we didn’t have one at all with Liam), and about how we initially were undecided about whether to tell people we had found out the sex. I’m not sure if we will this time, but you know what? I’m pretty sure we’ll lie about it if we do – at least, beforehand we’ll tell people we’re not going to find out. What we’ll tell them afterwards I don’t know.

Anyway, back to my point – I’m grateful to myself for recording some of the details of my last pregnancies. This time I want to do even better. Because this time will be the last time.

Five weeks today (or, more symptoms)

I think I’m feeling a little queasy. But surely it’s psychosomatic after yesterday’s discovery about when the nausea started last time?

Also having bit of pubic symphasis/SI joint ache – knew the pain free was too good to last.

Edited to add: I must say being pregnant at this point feels way too much like being about to have a period, for comfort.