Thursday May 24
On Monday evening Johnny and I got the shock of our lives
when we found out I was pregnant - and not just a little bit pregnant, but 23
weeks pregnant.
To a couple who had been told it would be difficult for me
to conceive and who had no idea that I was expecting this was completely mental
but happy news.
We have spent the last few days walking around in a daze
trying to take it in while getting on with our day-to-day lives.
So far we have told our families and a few close friends.
Some people have asked how I didn’t know I was pregnant. The
simple answer is I just didn’t think it was a possibility.
My last period was in December and when it failed to make an
appearance by mid-January I took a pregnancy test which was negative.
Whether I took it too early I don’t know but I was more than
a week late by this point.
So, we carried on as normal. I had just started a new job
and we are getting married on June 9 so we had plenty of stuff to think about.
February came and my period failed to show again so we went
to the doctor and explained that the January pregnancy test had been negative
but that we were worried there might be problem if we tried for a baby in the
future as I was diagnosed with polycystic ovaries when I was 28.
The doctor took a blood test a couple of weeks later and
then another one a month after that.
Both showed that I was producing abnormally high levels of a
hormone called prolactin, which the doctor said was likely to have stopped me
from ovulating.
So on top of not having periods I also thought I wasn’t
releasing any eggs – another reason why I didn’t think I was pregnant.
With hindsight there was probably the odd sign during the
first trimester.
There were days when I would get home after a long day at
work and feel far more tired and sapped of energy than I should have been. But
I put that down to starting a new job and having to do lots of driving.
For a few weeks a couple of months ago I would wake up in
the morning feeling a bit queasy but I was never sick. I put this down to being
a bit tired and run down.
But a few weeks ago the trousers I wear for work started to
become tighter around my middle and I couldn’t understand why.
I thought maybe I was a bit bloated and that the cramps and heartburn
I was getting was down to a food intolerance.
I went back to the doctor who prodded the crap out of my
stomach and told me that it probably was a food intolerance and to cut wheat
out of my diet.
But the pain continued and I had to resort to wearing a pair
of trousers that I bought a few years ago when I’d piled on the pounds and was
a bit of a heifer. I also found it uncomfortable to sleep on my front.
Both Johnny and I couldn’t understand why I was putting on
weight around my middle and nowhere else.
I imagine you are probably reading this and thinking that I
must be the thickest person in the world, but when you have been told by a
doctor that you are not pregnant, you have a hormone problem that is stopping
you from ovulating and that you will have difficulty conceiving then me being
pregnant didn’t even come into the equation.
By last week I was falling asleep on the sofa by 9pm every
night, unable to keep my eyes open, which is unusual for me as I have always
been a night owl.
I finally went back to a different doctor on Monday because
my stomach was rock solid and had got bigger. He prodded it again and then made
me do a pregnancy test.
As the test developed he used one of those sonar machines to
see if he could hear anything.
Then just as the pregnancy test showed a positive result I
heard my baby’s heartbeat for the first time.
Both the doctor and I looked at each other in utter disbelief
and when he measured my bump and told me how far along I was I nearly rolled
off the bed in shock.
I then started spouting off all the bad things I’d done
during the past five months as if I was in confession – drinking booze, smoking
fags, eating all the things you’re not meant to when you’re up the duff, and
having vaccinations for our honeymoon in Thailand
I got absolutely smashed on my birthday in February during a
12-hour drinking session and was downing shots of Tuaca on my hen do a couple
of weeks ago.
On Friday last week we were at a wedding and I ended up
drinking neat whisky from a hip flask with all the lads.
But I can’t change it and I haven’t touched a drop or smoked
a cigarette since the weekend. Not that I am a heavy smoker anyway.
Johnny wasn’t with me at the time and the doctor, seeing how
stunned I was, asked me if he wanted me to call anyone as he was worried about
me driving home on my own.
He handed me a pregnancy information pack, told me I had
made his day by ending it in such a lovely way and said I had to make an
appointment with the midwife.
I wanted to phone Johnny immediately and tell him but we
only live half a mile from the surgery and I wanted to see his face when I
dropped the bombshell.
I don’t remember the drive home. I just remember coming into
our flat and making Johnny jump as I walked through the door as he was
recording some guitar riffs for his mate and had headphones clamped to his
ears.
He was over the moon but then we spent the next few hours
both swearing profusely and looking at each other in disbelief.
Looking at my belly now you can see the start of a bump
there. My inny belly button is gradually becoming an outy and Johnny spent
about half an hour on Monday struggling to unscrew the top of my belly button
bar with a pair of pliers so I could remove it (I had it pierced when I was 18
so it’d been there for 14 years, which is probably unhygienic and pretty
minging when you think about it).
We now need to go shopping for maternity clothes as I don’t
think my jeans are going to fit me for much longer.
I told my colleague Tom the news today and he was really
chuffed for me. I feel so bad though as I only started this job five months ago
and I love it. I also don’t want to leave him in the lurch.
I plan on going back to work as we can’t afford for me not
to and although I am looking forward to being a mother I love being a
journalist and I don’t want to give that up either.
I also received a letter from the hospital to say my scan is
on Tuesday. I can’t wait! I think seeing the baby will make it feel more real,
and it’ll be nice for Johnny.
He’s spent most of the last few days stroking, kissing or
talking to my tummy.
So, not only have our wedding plans gone by the wayside this
week, despite it being only two weeks away, but we have now got to find the
money for a baby.
It’s all a bit mental if I’m honest and although I am really
happy I am also a little bit scared. Most people have about eight months to get
used to the thought of giving birth to a little person. I have got just over
three.
