Monday Morning Meltdown

Well, it was bound to happen. And I’m sure it won’t be the last time.

I’ve had a lot of aching where my uterus is over the last two days. A lot. It’s totally freaking me out. I am convinced the baby (which is little more than a poppy seed-sized cell ball) is dead in there.

DH and I rowed at the weekend (well, he got angry and I cried). He is stressed at work, miserable, unhappy, and eating all the time. He himself isn’t even sure where his problems are coming from, but having him in the house is just an extra person that I need to worry about. DS1 and DS2 are difficult enough to manage. Aged 4 and 2 they are boisterous and fight and squabble all day long. Add grumpy DH into the mix and the house is just horrible.

Then I missed my green smoothie yesterday as we visited friends and half a day turned into a whole day away. It was lovely to see them, but I hadn’t planned for it, so no smoothie for me. It sounds crazy, but those green smoothies are like a lifeline to getting my fruit and veg each day. When I miss one it makes me terrified I’m not feeding my body enough of the right things.

This morning the house was a state. The kind of food-on-the-floor and grubby-kitchen state that I absolutely can’t bear. So I tried to clean up the kitchen… of course, doing this with a 4 year old and 2 year old running around is neigh-on impossible.

Even putting a movie on for them didn’t really work, and DS2 is still super-grumpy from his croup last week.

The short story is I ended up crying my eyes out over the state of the kitchen, thinking how filthy and disgusting and dirty it was. The boys wanted my attention, the grime and dirty floor just seemed like the end of the world and I sat on the floor (yep, in the dirt) and cried.

Really cried. Great big out-loud sobbing, and rivers of tears.

At first I thought it was because of the house (and the bloody sink in the bathroom that started leaking on Saturday), and the kitchen, but then I realised it wasn’t really that at all.

It was this baby. This baby that I am convinced is already gone.

How the fuck am I going to make it to 6 weeks when I’m walking around convinced that every twinge is my uterus rejecting the pregnancy. Every morning I am pissed off that I feel bloated and that I am getting these sensations because my body has fooled me before. When I had my missed miscarriage, my body carried on with the pregnancy for 4 whole weeks. 4 WEEKS of morning sickness and sore boobs while I carried a dead baby around.

I don’t trust my body, I’m convinced that this is going nowhere and I am angry and upset about it. I don’t want to be walking around pregnant if it isn’t going to work. It’s a waste of time and energy and I am so hacked off with the whole thing.

I just don’t have the patience for a bad pregnancy.

Anyway, the day goes on. The boys carry on fighting. The rain keeps falling. My uterus keeps aching.

What can you do?

19 thoughts on “Monday Morning Meltdown

  1. hi Rose,
    are you in London? I’m not sure how many weeks pregnant you are exactly but if you’re far enough along for a heartbeat to show on a scan i can phone a friend and you can get one done (privately) tomorrow? …
    Let me know
    X

  2. Just put one foot in front of the other. One hour at a time. One minute at a time if that’s what it takes. It’s the thought of going through this exact stage again that has me terrified of actually becoming pregnant again. It’s the hardest. Harder than any of the rest of it. I think it’s even harder than finding out the baby is gone or the pregnancy has failed. At least by that point you know. It’s the not knowing that is the absolutely worst. Thinking of you. Do whatever you can to take care of yourself and be good to yourself. And distract yourself!

    • Thank you – one hour at a time is about what I can manage I think. How does a week ever seem like such a long time?? It’s the being so close but still so far away… you think the world will be perfect if you just get that bfp, but of course that just brings a whole new set of worries. Of course it does. I even knew it would. I knew it would be this way! It’s crazy.

  3. Oh Rose… I agree with Fanny P, the stress you’re under is doing neither you nor the baby any good. If possible, get the scan soon so you can rest easier. Wishing you nothing but the best. xo

  4. You poor thing, Rose. I’m so sorry for what you are going through! And I’m sure hormonal emotions do nothing to help, either! Hang in there and try to stay positive! Your little one needs your best you! xoxo Don’t be hard on yourself…it all comes with the territory. Wish I could help. Huge hugs, girl. I would have sat on the dirty floor with you and let you have your cry!! xoxo

    • You’re so right. My best me is exactly what i should be getting out there. Gah, I know I can get through this. Deep breath. Thank you. Oh – and I cleaned the floor and the kitchen eventually, which strangely made me feel so much better… What a morning.

  5. Oh Rose, I can only imagine how stressful this pregnancy is for you. The first trimester is long and stressful even without having had the experiences you’ve had. You can do it though. You can get through it. It will be scan time soon. Just take it day by day. Chop up some carrot and celery sticks and grab them for your handbag if you are going out. This gives you something healthy to chomp on in case the smoothie is challenging. X

  6. Thinking of you! This is such a stressful time given what you have been through already- I am praying for you and sending you all kinds of baby dust and love!

    La-

  7. I really hope you can get a scan soon to ease your mind. Try to find some relaxation techniques in the meantime. Maybe some deep breathing, a long shower, a fiction novel to just let your mind escape for a while. I agree with the above comments about stressing yourself out, though it makes perfect sense why you would. I was nervous with my 2nd pregnancy because I had miscarried before. I ended up renting a heartbeat monitor for a couple of months in the beginning and would listen every night before bed.

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