I’m Struggling


I’ll be honest, I’m struggling. This nausea is worse than anything I’ve ever had. It is completely unrelenting, from the minute I open my eyes in the morning, to when I fall asleep at night. It is constantly there, but there are regular waves that last an hour or so that are completely debilitating. I don’t even want to move, or talk, or even try and think when it’s at its peak.

As you can imagine, being a mum at these times is a special kind of challenge. Today, with warmer weather here at last, I somehow managed to pack a picnic and get the boys out of the house. They ran around collecting sticks while I sat on a blanket and tried not to cry. After all, this is my dream, right?

If pregnancy is anything, it is never, ever what you expect. I know, logically, that this sickness is probably fantastic and an indicator that my hormones are all doing what they should. But I mark off each twenty-four period like a prisoner chalking a wall, knowing I have weeks to go before I reach the end of the first trimester and some semblance of ‘safety’ from hearts that just stop beating.

I look tired in the mirror. The grey hairs dance under the light, making me wonder what on earth I’m doing having a baby at 40. One thought rushes past, scared this is all going to end horribly, followed swiftly by another thought that is sheer relief I will never have to be pregnant again because we’re finally completing our family. On one hand I’m mentally listing what I have to do to clear the decks for the year after the birth, and on the other I’m praying for a swift and easy miscarriage should it all go wrong.

I have booked another scan for next Wednesday evening – I’ll be 8w2d which is about the time I lost pregnancy number 5.

The hardest thing about how I’m feeling is that there is no guarantee of a good outcome. It’s hard, on a day like today, to keep smiling and running around. I cried for the first time in ages this evening, just totally overwhelmed with trying to cook dinner and the boys squabbling and fighting with each other. I rather pathetically just felt sorry for myself.

I’m now in bed – 7pm is not too early to call it a night. Hopefully tomorrow will be a brighter day,

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