23 Weeks Pregnant…

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Somehow, I’m now 23 weeks pregnant! So here’s another update from me during what is proving to be a very difficult pregnancy.

Image: FamilyEducation.com

We moved house last week (not recommended when you’re sporting a bump the size of Pluto) - still I’m glad we did it now whilst I’m still able to waddle around. We’re mostly unpacked now but the baby’s room appears to have become a dumping ground for things to be put up in the loft *cross face*. This is bad timing as I’m slowly getting used to the fact I’ll be having a little girl and have been busy planning the decorations for her nursery. I can’t wait to get started so the sea of cardboard is getting on my nerves.

After contracting flu last week, I’m now feeling much better propped up with antibiotics and co-codamol. It’s always a difficult decision knowing whether to take medication during pregnancy but this was at the insistence of my doctor and I was so ill I wasn’t really in a position to argue! I’ve also discovered I’m suffering from Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (CTS) which means my whole body is stiff and sore every morning. This is circulatory problem (common in pregnancy) that means I struggle to flex my knees, ankles and wrists, and my shoulders and calves feel like they been put through a marathon (not much chance of that!). Apparently there are some really fetching braces and supports I can wear, but now I know I’m not arthritic, I’ve decided to try to brave it out with paracetamol instead. All the books say this will pass after the baby is born so I’m feeling much better about my granny-style descent down the stairs every morning.

We’ve also had two trips to A&E last week with Dexter who managed to get tonsillitis and was throwing up blood on Thursday night. The very next night, in some sort of suicidal bid to rid the taste of antibiotics from his mouth, he then decided to break into the cleaning cupboard and help himself to a scary concoction of products. Thankfully, it turns out the bottles he plumped for were non-toxic so we’re very lucky. Nevertheless the panic and fear that goes through your mind when you discover your child has mastered the child locks on the kitchen cupboards is still very fresh in my mind. He’s now banned from the kitchen and we have a shiny new stair gate to prevent anymore accidents. It’s definitely made me more anxious about how I’ll be able to cope with two babies.

Photo: GETTY (The Telegraph)

There’s also been lots of talk about names this week. It’s tricky finding something edgy enough to complement Dexter that’s still really traditional. We much prefer English names that haven’t been done-to-death, with lots of variations so she can make it her own (e.g. Catherine, Cathy, Kate, Katie - this is a rubbish example as I’m not keen on it at all, but you get the idea). It might sound weird but I’ve planned a trip to our local cemetery next week so we can check out all the headstones for inspiration. Turn-of-the-century names are my favourites so I’m guessing I’ll find some interesting ones there. In the meantime, I’m very open to suggestions if anyone has struggled with the same dilemma?

Until next time, Gems

 


22 Weeks Pregnant: Contracting Flu in Pregnancy

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Unfortunately, this has been the worst week of my pregnancy so far. Despite having a flu jab, I’ve contracted influenza. Although I can still feel my little girl kicking and hopefully enjoying the quiet solace of my belly, things on the outside have been pretty horrendous and terrifying.

It started a week ago with a case of the sniffles. Dexter was struck down first and had a few bouts of late-night / early-morning screams. As he can’t talk yet, the cause of his discomfort wasn’t immediately obvious. At first we suspected he was struggling to adjust to his new surroundings (we’ve been in our new home for just 1 week), then excessive dribbling and lots of hand-chewing pointed to some back molars coming through, but before long it became clear we were dealing with a nasty cold.

It was somewhat inevitable I’d catch whatever germs my little man has been cultivating - I’d estimate I’m swiping his nose at a rate of 3 times per hour, that’s a 36 to 1 shot per day of it coming my way. Short of buying one of those face masks and running my home like a hospital, it was a forgone conclusion. Yet on the face of it, aside from the snotty nose and grumpy temperament, Dexter seems okay. I’ve also shaken off more than my fair share of colds this pregnancy so just prepared myself for another day of Kleenex abuse. But unfortunately whatever infection he had, mutated within me and brought out one of the worst strains of flu I’ve ever experienced.

As a result, I haven’t managed to keep any food down for 52 hours, have been asleep for an average of 20 hours per day, and have passed out a few times in my en suite. It’s been epic.

At first, I tried to be as pragmatic as possible about it. I read up about contracting flu in pregnancy and knew I couldn’t get medieval on the medicine cabinet, and already knew what the healthcare professionals would advise for the first 72 hours for any flu-like symptoms - plenty of fluids, lots of sleep, manage fever etc. The first few days I even managed a five hour shift cleaning the old house, a meal out with Craig (albeit cut short around 10pm), and managed to stick to Dexter’s usual routine. In retrospect, I should have cleared my diary, organised child-care and taken it easy. But I didn’t.

The full force of the flu hit me on Saturday. I was continually sick, couldn’t muster the energy to get out of bed, and bright lights hurt my eyes. I was so congested I struggled to breathe and couldn’t clear my nose or throat for long enough to get any real respite. Even glasses of water wouldn’t stay down and I quickly became dehydrated. Yet the worst thing, by far, was that all the retching was causing my stomach to cramp. My thoughts inevitably turned to my little tenant.

Having had the doctor on speed dial, until yesterday his guidance had been as expected. But yesterday he sounded a little concerned and has sent over a bevvy of safe medication to try and shift it. Given I’m now firmly in the second trimester, he’s switched out the paracetamol and codeine for antibiotics and it seems we’ve declared war on this thing.

So now I’m laying in bed surrounded by tissues, with streaming eyes, and the laptop back light on low. During the course of typing some 700 words, I’ve been sick twice, and have had 4 bouts of cramp (each lasting around 20 seconds every 20 minutes). Hand on heart, this is the worst I’ve felt in years.

To say I’ve been frightened is an understatement. Although my doctor likened baby’s temporary home in my belly to a balloon filled with water (e.g. practically impossible to burst), the cramps have regularly taken my breath away, and I’m very conscious that baby hasn’t had any nutrients for a few days now. I’m prepared to give it a few days on this new set of medication before I get myself down to the hospital, put in my own cannula and pump some meds into me intravenously. Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that.

Stay in the warm baby girl, trust me, you don’t want to come out yet.


19 Weeks Pregnant - Alistair McGowan breaks into our home, and I get ranty about my neighbour

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I think it’s fair to say that pregnancy doesn’t agree with me. Every weekly update so far has been full of doom & gloom and this one will be no exception. So as I’m giving away a BabyWatch doppler on the blog at the moment, I sneakily asked for the entrants to leave me their number one pregnancy tip by way of a comment. The general consensus seems to be that I should rest as much as possible and try to enjoy it. Unfortunately I seem capable of neither.

The biggest problem this week has been sleeping. I’m not uncomfortable, I just struggle to relax and let my mind shut down. I’m only averaging 2-3 hours per night, and the little sleep I do manage is plagued by nightmares about people breaking into the house, Dexter being abducted, or Craig dying. These nightmares sometimes spill into the day resulting in mini day terrors. This means I can be sat on the bus and panicking that someone is wearing a IED, or something equally ridiculous. Clearly my inability to switch off is causing my mind to race. Couple this with my anxiety about completely mundane things and it seems all this is manifesting itself in my dreams - whether I’m awake or not.

Think I’m overreacting? Well if you weren’t before, you will do now.

On Saturday, Craig went to a 50th birthday party and I stayed home. At some ungodly hour in the morning, as I lay tossing and turning in bed in a state of exhaustion, Alistair McGowan entered my house. He crept up the stairs and I saw him plain-as-day stood on the top step decked in a white turtleneck. He didn’t do anything. He just stood there staring at me and Dexter before running back down the stairs, and out the front door. I was utterly terrified and had to call Craig and beg him to leave the party early. This is how ridiculous my life has become.

None of this is aided by my thankfully soon-to-be ex neighbour indulging in a bit of over-dramatics in the bedroom with her new boyfriend. I can’t work out if she’s blissfully ignorant that our terraced house means her bed is actually less than 3 foot away from ours, or she likes the thought of being heard. I’ve never met her other half but I already know so much about him thanks to their x-rated bedside ‘chats’. I’ve never been brave enough to mention this before but it seems insomnia breeds recklessness. I do hope by some freak coincidence she stumbles across this blog and saves me the embarrassment of having to confront her myself, if not for our sake, for the sake of whomever next moves in.

All of this has left me feeling decidedly flat (which is laughable really as you couldn’t get anymore convex than me right now). I barely have the energy to parent Dexter, and I’m very jittery. Tiredness sees me doing very strange things like crying when I have a cuddle with Dexter, or heading for my bed mid conversation with Craig. I actually burst into tears when watching Joey Essex on I’m a Celebrity last night as I felt sorry for his parents! Nothing I do seems to make any sense.

The only person who can give me the reassurance I need right now is my Craig, but for him it’s like living with someone who should be committed to an asylum. I’m not depressed as such, just constantly alternating between pawing over him, or throwing my toys out of the pram.

This pregnancy just doesn’t seem to have registered with him as much as the last one. I had to practically drag him into the bedroom to listen to the baby’s heartbeat on our new doppler, and we won’t spontaneously talk about him / her like we did when I was this far gone with Dexter. The only time he’ll ask me about the baby is when he catches sight of me grimacing when I sit up awkwardly and accidentally treat baby to an abdominal crunch.

It’s not his fault - I think I’m just feeling very guilty about this pregnancy and projecting this onto him. I feel like I’m just getting on with daily life and parenting Dexter rather than talking about / making plan for this baby. With Dexter, at 19 weeks pregnant, I had the nursery set-up and was simply waiting on the gender scan before adding all the finishing touches. With this pregnancy I’ve spent all day being sick, crying and having the occasional bout of IBS - it only serves to increase my anxiety that the gender won’t be the only thing I discover at next week’s anomaly scan.

So that’s it. I’m off to Google some relaxation tips. I clearly need to!

 

pixel 19 Weeks Pregnant   Alistair McGowan breaks into our home, and I get ranty about my neighbour