20th June 2016
Well, I went for an ultrasound this week.
I wish someone could have warned me about drinking 500mL of water and then holding it for an entire hour and a half. I swear, it is another form of torture designed just for pregnant women. I was 100% convinced that I was going to pee myself before they got the gel on my stomach.
Spoiler alert: I didn’t pee myself. Champion.
I went to the ultrasound by myself and it was one of the scariest moments of my life. So many what ifs were floating through my head while I was sitting in the waiting room. What if it was a molar pregnancy? What if it was an ectopic pregnancy? What if they just couldn’t see anything? Just what if something was wrong and I was in the room by myself?
Well, it turns out that something was kind of wrong. I went to the scan thinking that I was six weeks pregnant. It made sense because by my last period I was six weeks pregnant. The scan, however, thought differently. The ultrasound tech put the gel on my belly and waved the wand around. That was fine. The gel was warm, which was a pleasant surprise. However, the tech couldn’t see what she was supposed to see at six weeks pregnant. I think that’s the moment when my heart just about jumped out of my chest and my stomach fell through the floor.
I was still freaked out by actually being pregnant, but I didn’t want anything to be wrong.
She assured me that everything was okay (that she could tell) and that I was not as far along as I thought. That elicited an eyebrow raise and a head tilt by yours truly. It’s true that I had a lot of problems when I was on the pill, but I thought I knew my body well enough to know what happened and when they happened.
Honestly, when I saw the image on the ultrasound screen my mind went kind of blank. I wasn’t excited or scared or nervous or just anything. I think I was still trapped in the holy hell phase. I was still looking at the pregnancy tests every day to make sure it really sank in. Little by little, it was beginning to sink in.
I still went about my day as if nothing had happened. I got a few raised eyebrows when I walked to the other side of the room at work (I worked in a kitchen). I had to get up a few times in the middle of the night. I felt sick all the time. I ate and napped like it was going out of fashion. I didn’t tell anyone at work and I still didn’t have the guts to tell the guy I was seeing.
It had only been a week since I found out, but the guilt was starting to eat me alive. I had seen him several times since I found out and I still hadn’t even hinted at what was going on. The secret was destroying me. I actually liked this guy and I was keeping something major from him. If I remember correctly, I called my sister and burst into tears on the phone about not being able to tell him. I just wasn’t ready.
That’s how I felt about the whole thing. I just wasn’t ready.