23 weeks pregnant and sick as a dog

Rose is sick, I am sick, bubs is doing great. We’re both on antibiotics for bacterial infections (tonsillitis for her, sinusitis for me) and I have been so sick and sleep deprived this week I’m desperately looking forward to feeling better. With my drug allergies plus being pregnant there’s almost nothing I can take to help reduce the pain or get me to sleep and I’m now very worn out. Food aversions are even more severe than usual and I’m struggling to eat and keep down fluids, which is scary and stressful and makes me feel like I have an eating disorder and worry about developing gestational diabetes. Every time I read about the importance of a balanced, pregnancy safe diet and regular exercise I kind of want to scream because at the moment I can hardly walk 50 yards. The sheer misery of chronic pain is hard to overestimate, I cry a lot, I’m very irritable, and I feel completely exhausted. I’ve also stopped sleeping, which may be sickness or may be pregnancy insomnia…

Just when I think I’ve learned all the horrible things pregnancy can bring with it, I stumble across something else. Frankly right now I’m wildly over all of this and feel like I’ve been sold a load of rubbish about what pregnancy would be like. I kind of can’t beleive I actually wanted to experience this, was really excited about it and chose to do it. The lovely moments of joy at feeling baby move simply don’t stack up alongside months and months of being madly unwell. I’m perfectly capable of being really excited about feeling my baby move in Rose’s tummy, thankyou very much. I hate complaining because she’d love to carry, and because people sometimes think that means I don’t want to be having a baby or that I’m not grateful we are expecting. But hell this has not been fun!! Fibro and pregnancy and sinusitis especially are kicking my ass and it’s not fun or exciting or joyful or glowy, it’s just stressful and exhausting and bloody miserable and yes I chose this. Argh!

Fortunately froggie is pretty unaware, kicking away every day, especially in response to Rose singing to them. Thankfully! Our GP got out the doppler today and that wonderful heartbeat, so strong and rhythmic, it’s such a relief to hear. I finally have an appointment to meet my midwife for the first time next week, which is a big relief because the bloody hospital has been confusing us no end with all manner of contradictory information.

I am, as you can hear, pretty overwhelmed. Rose has been superb. Pain overwhelmed me last night and she rubbed my back and talked me through a visualisation where I hadn’t spent the day crying on the lounge, sleepless and exhausted, but instead we went out together on a picnic through the beautiful autumn trees. And the pain stayed there in my body and face but for a little while I went somewhere else, with Rose, somewhere peaceful and beautiful where everything was okay. And I saw the wall I have to jump over to reach that place – grief and hurt for every night I’ve ever spent alone with such pain. But last night she took my hand and I lept the wall and away we ran; into the red and golden leaves, into a place of quiet and promise. Into a world where my body is whole, and we sit beneath the trees by the water together, red velvet against grey stone. Her hand in mine, her beautiful hair snagged with a tiara of leaves. She is my home. She is my peace.

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