Monday, 24 February 2014

I should be writing more about our surprise final pregnancy, I should.  I want to.  However, I have nothing to write, how terribly awful does that sound?  It's that point in pregnancy where you have past the first trimester hurdle yet you're now stranded in the land of in between.  You feel somewhat castaway and left to simply float.  If you're a porker like me you're all flab and no beautiful emerging bump.  You don't see a midwife again for many weeks and ditto your next scan.   It's all a forever away. In your quieter moments you fancy you felt the darting motion like a startled goldfish within your womb yet you know it's too early.  You're excited yet it's akin to looking forward to Christmas, in January.  The excitement comes in small shivering bursts that then disperse like popped bubbles.  You're left with what if's and memories, memories of the births of The Spawn, each birth as unique as they themselves, memories of the lostling that you never got to meet and then you're struck by the passage of time.  It feels forever ago since you held your first born in your arms.  It feels like only yesterday.  It's petrifying how quickly time passes, so quick it feels almost stolen.

With each Child you have, the youngest stays younger longer, the others seem to age overnight when a newborn is brought into the fold.  I look at the Preschooler who's still hungry for cuddles and drinks up all my kisses like they're lemonade.  Things one & two seemed so much older at this same age. As he sleeps next to me, still stealing my bed, with his little hand gripping me 'you're mine' it seems to say and my breaths weave into the silence the  reply 'always'.  I think of how enormous the changes will be for him this year in his life and although it's not anything the other two didn't experience it seems harder this time as he's still my baby. I can't possibly imagine him not sleeping next to me.  

The Preschooler is coming to an end off our breastfeeding journey, whether he actually realises it yet or not.  He's down to a very quick feed before sleep now and occasionally a brief one should he wake up suddenly in the night or in the early morning.  In all honesty I'm not entirely convinced there's any milk left, due to pregnancy, and at times I physically cringe when he latches on due to discomfort.  At least it's been gradual and a somewhat natural process, I never thought my little boob monster would get to this point.  He's now three years and ten & a half months old.  It's bittersweet yet not as much as it could have been seeing as although it's the end of our nursing relationship that's approaching slowly, I'll have a whole new one to embark on later this year.

Perhaps part of what I'm finding hard about this pregnancy is the loneliness.  I'm not one for groups and meets.  I have no sisters, cousins or even in the flesh close friends.  Pregnancy is only real to The Spawn and The Husband when something physically occurs to make it so, like feeling kicks yet to a mother it's a beautiful intimacy, a symbiotic existence almost.  Believe me when I say nobody was more surprised than Myself and The Husband at this pregnancy and although a pregnancy isn't ideal for us it's very much wanted and the love for this little Moomin is fierce and all encompassing.  The InLaws were suitably shocked yet took it within their stride and realised that although unexpected, it's still something to be celebrated.  A new life.  How can that not be beautiful?  Cherished?  However, the same cannot be said about The Parents.

I'm now 14+3 and The Mother is continuing to ignore the situation, she was terribly irked at the news and rather than offer support or celebrate with us she regaled me with messages of absolute doom regarding to how this will be the destruction of my marriage and life and that The Spawn will suffer and lose out.  The Father simply commented when cornered with the topic of The Mothers behaviour, that it's because neither of them 'agree' with what we're doing.  This baby is growing for a reason.  It was obviously meant to be here.  Meant to be ours.  Yes, we hardly have two pennies to rub together yet the things we can't afford such as a car and holidays etc would still be out of reach regardless of one more child.  You cope because you have to, you manage what you have and that which you don't have.  People have had far less than us and managed.  The child will be fed, clothed and most importantly.....adored.  Not once have they said 'Congratulations', 'we're happy if you're happy', 'can we help?' My mother is adamant that around the time of The Birth she'll be on a holiday that she's yet to book, with The Golden Brother and thus unable to babysit The Spawn. Bare in mind that when Thing One was born she rushed to the hospital to see him and me before I was even on the ward, uninvited.  She's not once asked ,even in casual conversation, 'How are you?' I asked if she'd look after The Preschooler whilst we attended our first scan, something she usually would jump at, she was busy.  Cleaning.  Not once did she ask how the scan went or if everything is okay.  Upon e-mailing The Father a picture from the scan, I got no reply.   She spends one day a week here chattering about tv programmes on cats in Australia, the books she's read, bitching about The Father and waxing lyrical about The Golden Son, yet specifically ignores any and every possibly mention of pregnancy regardless of how many conversation openers I provide on the topic.

It's hard.  I'm hurt.  I'm angry.  It's getting to the point where when the pregnancy reaches a stage where it simply can't be ignored, I don't want her involved.  I don't want to reward her cold and churlish behaviour with access into one of the most poignant events in my life, the birth of my last child.  She hasn't earned the right.  Ignoring my child within the womb is as heinous a crime to me as ignoring it skin side.

I feel so alone.

I can already feel the pops and grinding of my pelvis, hips and back complaining as I sit wondering how bad it will get.  I know it's only temporary yet I was near housebound during pregnancy with The Preschooler due to SPD, Sciatica and a trapped muscle in my back.

At times I want to disappear and be absorbed into an existence where only I and The Baby exist until it's born.  To not have to see the world.

My cravings as always are short lived yet plentiful.  I already have the pregnancy brain which is like the brain fog of M.E yet more comical, especially as it affects my speech, I keep telling The Spawn to 'Shtop' fighting.  At least I haven't burnt myself yet nor burned the house down which is a plus.

I'm holding in and holding out waiting for the twenty week scan, hoping baby is okay and yes, hoping it's not shy.  Once the gender is known they become a person, they have a name and everything seems more real.  Planning can start.

I have a list of appointments already with the consultant, an anesthetist, for the RAADAP (prophylactic injection of Anti-D at 28 weeks) and a routene gestational diabetes test.

At 14+1 I found Moomins heartbeat with the doppler for the first time.  It paralysed me with it's beauty.  I wasn't convinced I'd find it so early through all my flubber.

I'm all to aware that I should be cherishing every second of my final pregnancy, the magic of it.  Already I feel that cold gaping sadness knowing that this is it, forever after.  Never again.  Yet until I can curl up in bed, with my hand placed upon it's kicks and wriggles I find myself looking for markers in life to aim for to help pass the time such as school assemblies, school holidays, The Preschoolers birthday...... things that I can reach for throughout the year so the wait doesn't seem so long.  So scary.

I have three beautiful, amazing children ans it's true what they say.  You never have to divide your love, it just simply multiplies.  I'm already petrified at how fiercely I love this tiny person.


  1. I just found your blog on Twitter, and your post made me teary reminding me what it feels like to be pregnant, sick and not supported enough... yet, madly in love. I hope you find more support in the weeks to come!

    1. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment xxx

  2. I really hope you feel more supported as your pregnancy progresses. Whatever anyone else says (and it's none of their business really) it's fabulous news and if you're happy, that's all that matters. Congratulations

  3. really hope things improve and she turns around. Congrats on the new life you are growing x

  4. Sending huge hugs. I had SPD both times too, so I feel your pain. Your Mum sounds like mine. My mum was not even slightly impressed when I was pregnant again so soon after my son was born. She came round eventually but it was tough going for a while xx

  5. Its horrible that your parents are responding in this way, it make me sad and angry for you, I hope that as the pregnancy goes on they realise how awful they are being and start supporting you more. I also hope things go more smoothly with this pregnancy and you don't have to worry so much, but I know thats a hard thing to do as worrying is part of the package when it comes to pregnancy. Wish you well. x


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