For the first 8 weeks, I felt healthy and so content. We'd told a few friends by this stage but for the most part it was still a secret, and I adored that time. As much as sometimes I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, there was something so special about our news being classified information. I felt safer and protected when only a few people knew.
I had an early scan at around 8 weeks to help date the pregnancy. Seeing our little baby on the screen for the first time was just incredible and so moving. There were no arms or legs, just a little bean shaped thing with stumps, and most importantly, a lovely strong heartbeat flickering away in the middle.
Also around the 8 week mark, Steve and I came home from a lovely dinner out and for the first time in my pregnancy, I was violently sick. I was sick all night.
I anxiously awaited the 12 week stage when I could see my baby again, and where I was told my sickness would subside.
My sickness did not subside. I was sick until 41 weeks pregnant, during the birth, and after the birth.
I became used to the sickness and was never hospitalised with it. I learnt to live with it everyday, and it didn't affect daily life very much.
The 12 week ultrasound was absolutely amazing. I couldn't believe the difference in 4 weeks. Our little bean with stumps was now a human shaped little thing, it looked perfectly formed and had little fingers and toes. It was bouncing around on the monitor, waving and doing somersaults. We watched in complete awe and fell in love all over again.
At 29 weeks pregnant, I felt little Birdy move for the first time. I'd been so sick the night before, that I actually worried the baby may have been harmed. But at around 7am that Sunday morning, my little one decided to let me know all was well in its world, and kicked me. It felt like being poked gently from the inside. Little jerky movements.
From then on, I felt movements every day.
At my 20 week scan, I had a mean ultrasound technician who was rude and condescending. I'd been anxious in the weeks leading up to the scan as I'd heard of serious problems being picked up on and I desperately wanted Bird to be okay, but the lady was snappy and not very friendly at all, which didn't help to ease my mind.
Thankfully, everything was fine although my placenta was slightly low, so she scheduled a 32 week ultrasound to make sure it had moved out of the way. If it didn't move, I may have been booked in for a C-Section which I hoped to avoid.
We chose not to find out the sex of our baby. I was convinced from very early on that we were having a girl and Steve wanted confirmation,, but I wanted that extra surprise in the delivery room. I wanted my husband to tell me whether I had a son or a daughter, not this horrible woman I didn't know.
I was 21 weeks pregnant when Steve started to feel movements. He just loved it, and I loved watching him bond with my little tiny bump by singing and talking to it.
There were a handful of times later in my pregnancy when I panicked. There were occasions when I didn't feel the baby move for a while, which was really unusual. There were other times when things just didn't feel quite "right" - I felt movements, but something just felt off.
I cannot stress this next part enough - if you're oregnant and you notice reduced movements or feel that something isn't quite right, GET CHECKED IMMEDIATELY. You are not wasting anybody's time and it's worth being checked over even if it's just for your peace of mind. Do not let anyone tell you that they're too busy. Insist on being checked.
On two of these occasions, Bird didn't seem too happy. One time, after the standard 20 minutes on the monitor, the midwife was concerned with the lack of movements so she gave me a very sugary cup of tea and kept me on the monitor. It worked, and soon Bird was wriggling away again as usual. The second time, I'd started to get an awful headache followed by blurred vision and even more severe sickness. I could hardly stand. Steve phoned the lovely Midwife Led Unit (MLU) and they told us I needed to get to the maternity hospital across town as soon as possible. They were concerned I may have pre-eclampsia and if so, wanted to induce me.
I arrived and had lots of tests done, but luckily there was no underlying issue. I was just severely dehydrated so they hooked me up to an IV and administered lots of fluids overnight. The next morning I felt much better and was desperate to get home. They were concerned I was still slightly dehydrated but they discharged me after making me promise to keep drinking lots. Bird had been a bit quiet due to my dehydration but was perfectly healthy otherwise, thank goodness.
I had several more ultrasounds as I had a small bump and there was an ongoing concern over whether my baby was growing properly. There was never any further concern over the size and with every scan I was given reassurance and the chance to see my little one again.
The 32 week scan was also fine, the placenta had moved out of the way so a planned C-Section wouldn't be necessary, which I was very relieved about.
At around 34 weeks pregnant, I began to really struggle for breath, particularly at night. I've always been quite small, and although I only had a little bump, it seemed like there was just no more room for baby!
By the following week, it had reached a point where I would be sobbing and pacing the house downstairs until 6am every morning, when I would finally collapse in an exhausted heap and sleep for an hour or so before waking up again.
We arranged a consultant appointment but all he could tell me was that my lungs were being squished by baby and were running out of space, so my lung capacity was quite drastically reduced.
At about 38 weeks pregnant, I cried to a midwife and told her I was scared I'd end up with postnatal depression once my baby was born through sheer exhaustion. She agreed and was very sympathetic, requesting the consultant organise an induction after 40 weeks pregnant. She agreed that from what I was telling her, I'd probably get more sleep with a newborn baby than I had been for the past month,
However, having completed a hypno-birthing course during my pregnant, I was determined not to use any unnecessary intervention, including induction.
I kept my fingers crossed and hoped I'd go into labour naturally.
My due date came and went.
The day before my scheduled induction, I called my midwife and asked her to cancel it. I'd been dealing with my breathlessness for 6 weeks and I desperately didn't want to jeopardise having my lovely natural water birth for the sake of a few less nights of breathlessness.
The rest will follow in my birth post! :)
Love, Gina Xx
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