4th July 2016
It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I cannot believe it took me that long to tell him what was going on with me. I’m starting to not feel so alone in all of this.
This was an exciting week because I got to see my baby again. The days leading up to the ultrasound were nerve-wracking. To say the least. I had nightmare after nightmare that there was something wrong. I had been cramping for a few days, so I was anxious to see what was going on.
I got picked up and we made the quick trip into town to the clinic. With a full bladder. Again. I’m still convinced that it was a torture device specifically designed for pregnant women. We showed up to the clinic and we were the only people waiting for an ultrasound. My bladder was hoping that we would be seen straight away, but that was not the case. I ended up jiggling my legs and doing anything to distract myself from the urge to go to the bathroom.
All the waiting and jiggling around ended up paying off.
A beautiful little bean showed up on the screen as soon as the wand touched my belly. I instantly released the breath I was holding and relaxed. I cannot describe the feeling of relief I got when I saw the baby showed up on the screen. It was …something else.
I have never, ever experienced a feeling like that before. Some people might have said that my maternal instincts were finally starting to kick in after twenty-two long years of insisting that I was never, ever going to have children.
Ah, how times change.
She did all the measurements and had a look around to make sure everything was okay. She is hands down the best sonographer I’ve had so far. She explained everything she was doing and made sure that I was comfortable the entire time. It was really lovely.
The baby measured at eight weeks and one day, and had a heartbeat of 164. She also told us that the due date for the little bean was 27th February 2017. Another sigh of relief. Phew.
I got dropped off at home and went back to my never-ending stack of study materials. Unfortunately, the studying didn’t last very long until I ended up needing a nap. I picked the nap over studying. Of course.
I was still feeling incredibly sick. I would spend hours sitting in the bathroom or in bed with a bowl next to me. I was near incapacitated in the morning. I was good for absolutely nothing. “Morning sickness” is an absolute lie. I believe a man came up with the name for it. Mine lasted all morning right up until 3pm. It got worse if I was around greasy foods, coffee, chicken or ham.
Needless to say, working in a kitchen was becoming more and more of a struggle. It was getting harder, not better like I thought it would. My eighth week of pregnancy really was when shit hit the fan and I had to reevaluate what I was doing in Auckland.
It was all getting to be too much.
I was (and still am) taking five papers online for my undergrad degree.
I was working three or four days a week.
I was trying to keep up with my friends and my man friend.
All whilst trying to keep up my daily napping schedule.
It all came crashing down when I was eight weeks pregnant.
It was the week my man friend and I decided that we needed a bit of a break.
It was the week I handed in my notice at work.
It was the week I met my mother and step-father for dinner.
It was the week I decided to pack up my things and head back to the Coromandel for the rest of my pregnancy.
None of it was an easy decision. It was absolutely devastating. In all honesty, it was the first time the I can’t do this thought crossed my mind. The rest of the week I did nothing but eat and sleep. I just didn’t have the energy to do anything or see anyone.
I was sad. I was scared. I was overwhelmed.
I also knew that it wasn’t going to last forever and that everything was going to be okay.