One afternoon in work I panicked that something was
wrong. I'd been feeling lots of movement from Baby in the days before
(probably high from all the coke) but I hadn't felt anything since the
previous night. I got straight on the phone to my midwife who assured me
everything was probably fine but suggested that I go in for a check up
to put my mind at ease. Off we went and I climbed onto the examination
couch; shaking, dry mouth and battling a wave of fear induced nausea. My
midwife felt my tummy and took out the doppler.. then we heard it, the
sweetest sound I've ever heard in my life.. my baby's heartbeat!! "There
you go, see? Your baby couldn't be healthier. That's a brilliant,
strong heartbeat!" the midwife beamed as I lay there a mess, with tears
of relief and sheer elation streaming down my face. This was real, I had
a little, live person growing inside me! I knew we were in no way out
of the woods yet but we had the best possible start.
At first I was relieved to feel sick because at
least I knew I was pregnant and everyone assured me that the more sick I
was, the healthier baby was. Also if 'hyperemesis gravidarum' (extreme
pregnancy sickness) is good enough for Kate Middleton then it's good
enough for me! But after months of it I'd really had enough,
especially as I was working full time throughout. Some days I felt so
weak and miserable I just lay in bed. I'd cry and tell my husband I
couldn't take another day of it then immediately be overcome with guilt
and apologise to Baby promising that I didn't mean it and that I was
more than happy to deal with the sickness if they kept their end of the
deal and kept living and growing. (Baby and I made this pact very early
on and so far it seemed to be working well.)
The delight we felt at hearing the heartbeat was nothing compared to the day of the 20 week scan. We'd had the 12 week one where Baby was flipping around like an olympic gymnast and in the words of the stenographer "one of the most active babies she'd ever seen" but 20 weeks is the biggie. So much so that they post you a leaflet in advance so you can worry about all the illnesses and disabilities they will be checking for. The night before I lay awake trying to mentally steel myself for bad news. Things had been going too well so far, the wheels were bound to fall off at some point.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only 5 minutes, the stenographer spins round the screen to reveal our beautiful, amazing, very much alive, little baby. She showed us all the little bits and bobs, the heart, lungs, kidneys, all present and correct, 2 arms, 2 hands (clenched as fists oh oh, we have a feisty one here) 2 legs and seriously 2 of the most beautiful little feet I've ever seen! Everything was perfect, our baby was completely healthy! All the sickness really had been worth it.
In the leaflet I mentioned after all the health warnings and test details, was a big notice saying that it was hospital policy not to disclose the sex of the baby. However, me being me, high on the crest of the wave of joy that our baby was healthy, couldn't resist; "I know I'm not suppose to ask but, can you tell if it's a boy or a girl?" I asked meekly "I can indeed" laughed the stenographer, "Do you want to know?" I shot a questioning glance to hubby who nodded in agreement, we both wanted to know. She revealed that we were having a boy and I asked "Is that an educated guess or are you 100% sure?" She was 100% sure, we were having a baby boy... a son. I could not have been happier. I left the room floating, me, my husband and our little son.
Until next time
Love
Wheelie Momma x
Contact me at wheeliemomma@hotmail.com with any feedback, queries or suggestions on what you'd like to see in future posts
Fantastic writing, feeling every emotion under the sun.
ReplyDeleteLump in my throat and smiling here. U are amazing
ReplyDeleteFantastic
ReplyDelete