This has been a crazy couple of months, and I feel like I want to document this pregnancy journey somehow. This is just a reflection on my personal experience, and not intended to be educational – although maybe these blogs will help someone! It’s just as likely no one will read it except my mum (hi mum!), and I’ll look back at it in a few years and scoff about how naïve I was!
I have always wanted children and always wanted to be a “young mum” – but if you had asked me whether I would have chosen to get pregnant this year – let alone the same week as going self-employed, I’d have laughed and said please God no. My football team are about to be promoted! Don’t be mental!
Firstly, and unexpectedly, there were feelings of GUILT. Sooo much guilt. I felt guilty ALL the time. This pregnancy was unplanned, but not prevented – we never in a million years thought that our very first gamble would “pay off” (not sure this is even a good euphemism but we’re rolling with it). I feel like such a twat even saying it. The first guilty thought I remember was about not feeling excited straight away. I was emotional for sure – sobbed in my boyfriend’s arms when that solid blue line appeared. There’s a lot to process, reflecting on it I think it’s pretty natural to feel disconnected and terrified when it’s taken us by surprise.
I have SO many close friends and clients that I have met over the years who have struggled with infertility, IVF, recurrent miscarriage, infant loss, it feels so unfair that this could happen to me by “accident”. I struggled with feeling really guilty about (eventually) being excited, guilty about telling people who I knew had such a different experience to my own. One of my very close friends was having IVF treatment and we told each other we were pregnant and we had the same due date. She miscarried the following week. I cancelled my appointments and just sat and cried all day. The constant guilt about feeling tired and sick but knowing full well there are women out there with more intense jobs, toddlers and who have zero support, who are suffering with hyperemesis or worse. Guilt for knowing how privileged and blessed I am to be in this position but feeling sulky about not being able to have a drink for 9 months. There was guilt of some form or another Every. Single. Day.
Next, the ANXIETY. Oh my god, what isn’t there to worry about? Everything is terrifying. I don’t know if this experience was slightly different for me, as in my line of work, I know about pretty much everything that can go wrong, from pregnancy right through to childbirth and the post-party. In general I’m a pretty calm, reasonable and optimistic person. The pregnancy just being a line on a test, and nothing particularly tangible apart from that for a while, is the perfect breeding ground for worry. My boobs being constantly SO sore was kind of reassuring – but then you read “the sicker you are, the better”. It’s week 6, why aren’t I feeling sick yet? What are the chances of miscarriage this week? Every time I went for a wee bracing myself to see blood, every twinge (there’s a LOT of twinges) thinking “shit, here we go, it’s over”. Worrying about everything from money and work (who gets themselves knocked up 2 days into self-employment?), whether my kids are going to hate me, how I’m going to cope with no sleep when I can barely get myself out of bed at 8am most days, how my body is going to change, whether I’m ready for my life to change so drastically. Will I lose all my friends? Will I ever be able to play football again? I had difficulty being able to get to sleep at night as my mind was just racing from one thing to the next.
The nausea did come around week 7. I felt a little relief of course as it’s a good sign apparently, corresponding to your level of HCG hormone. I worked out pretty quickly that if I kept snacking (popcorn, biscuits, crisps and fruit were my go-to) I felt much better. Such a weird nausea though! Like a constant hangover which kind of feels like salt in the wound to be honest – one of the universes’ little jokes I guess. Along with this, the food aversions! I normally can’t function without coffee and I couldn’t drink it for about 4-5 weeks. I didn’t want to be in the same room as an avocado (normally one of my staples) and my boyfriend was running out of dinner suggestions where I didn’t screw my face up in disgust. I got off very lightly – apart from the constant “background” of nausea that would peak if I let myself get too hungry, I was only physically sick a couple of times.
I felt I was constantly battling with myself – should I allow myself a nap even though I’ve not done nearly enough to earn it? Am I just thinking I’m exhausted when I’m actually just being lazy? I actually managed to sleep well when I eventually dropped off, give or take a few days. I had a few naps in the afternoons (I’ve never been a napper, can’t normally sleep in the day) mainly while I was trying to get some work done! Back comes the guilty thoughts – I should be able to just crack on and get everything done! I had thoughts like “There are women who suffer with fatigue and sickness SO much more than me, so pathetic that I can’t even go and see clients, do a load of washing, and write a blog in the same day” multiple times a day.
I felt very distracted and like I couldn’t focus on anything, and I really wanted to get in the gym but I just couldn’t muster the energy. I was still managing to train and play football up until week 8 – at which point I felt like I’d been hit by a bus after a game, really flared up my SI joint and made the decision to stop at this point. This is when the tiredness really started to kick in and I wondered how I used to love being outside in the freezing cold for two hours until 9.30 at night!
My overwhelming memory of the first trimester is simply that it felt as though it lasted forever. The near constant guilt, anxiety and nausea, it was really tough going through such an emotional and physical rollercoaster. I worried A LOT and on reflection I think I put an awful lot of pressure on myself, particularly regarding my financial situation. A good friend said to me “don’t worry about money, I know it’s easy to say but trust me, when baby’s here it won’t matter”. And I tried to keep this front and centre of my mind every time I felt myself wanting to spiral into worry.
I want to clarify that I feel incredibly grateful and so excited to start a family. But I also want to stress that it’s OK not to feel grateful every second of the day just because there’s a wonderful reason behind it (and if you’re anything like me, feeling guilty +++ because so many people I know would kill to be in my position); there’s so much to process and think about and we’re only human. I have taken some pressure off myself in this regard now, purely out of necessity. The baby, more than anything else right now, needs me to be stable, relaxed and happy. I have to think about putting myself first now, something I (and pretty much every woman I’ve ever met?) struggle with. It’s a constant lesson but that’s life! We all need to treat ourselves with a little more respect and kindness, in the same way we treat others.
These probably sound like the ramblings of a crazy person and well done if you have got this far, I feel like there is no structure or writing skill in this one but I’m just happy it’s finished at this point! I will do a reflection on the second and third trimesters too; as I love a bit of continuity 😊 if there’s anything you’d like to know, any questions or feedback you have please do let me know!
Lots of love, Lauren (& bump) x