So yesterday my first pregnancy would have been 2.  It’s still hard, it really doesn’t get easier, even with the constant reminder in my tummy of the little one growing so strong (and punching my lady regions constantly!).  A lot of people say “yeah but look at what you’ve got coming soon” but it still doesn’t make it any easier.  There’s still the pain of nearly 3 years of trying, of countless tests, of crying myself to sleep some nights.  It’s still there and always will be.  You only have to talk to any woman (and indeed their partners) who has suffered a miscarriage and dates are engrained in your memory for an eternity.

In 9 weeks we will meet our little one and see what they look like, what their personality is like, who they take after.  But a small part of me will always think about the other 3 angels we have.  Would they have been different?  What gender would they be?  How would our lives be different now?  Would this pregnancy be a younger sibling for them?

The hurt and pain will never go away!

I’ve surprised myself with this pregnancy.  Yes I suffered a lot with anxiety in the first few months but since this little one has become a little wriggler, the anxiety I feel is lessening.  I do have the occasional “oh my god, I’ve felt no movement today” but then as soon as I relax and eat, it’s playtime again!

They do say that knowledge is power and I certainly feel that I’ve been more in control with this pregnancy.  I’ve done my research and planned where I can.  Of course I’m aware to expect the unexpected too.  But then I do often wonder if sometimes you know too much.  I read all the stories on Tommy’s but, as well as miscarriages, they also talk about stillbirths.  Yes it’s rare and yes I’m being monitored by the best doctors, but when you’ve had nothing but bad luck, you expect nothing but bad luck.

Thankfully, negative thoughts are a rarity.  I do occasionally think “so why should this pregnancy be any different?”, then I get kicked and am reminded of the precious life growing in me!  Early in my pregnancy I lived by the mantra

Today I am pregnant and I’m going to enjoy it

It got me through the tough times and helped me to enjoy pregnancy a little more than I expected to.  Yes I’ve felt like crap at times and yes I’ve cried through exhaustion but all is well and I keep willing this little one to sap all my energy, kick me at 3am so I can’t sleep and just keep growing.

Anxiety is trying to creep in a bit more as we near our due date.  There’s so much to do to get ready for baby and not enough weekends left.  We have 9 weeks until we meet our little one and a lot of work to do in getting the nursery together and generally preparing ourselves.  I’ve booked hypnobirthing and antenatal classes to help me prepare – at the moment I’ve not really looked at anything else as, in my head, there’s still time.  But there isn’t!  ARGH!  I arrived 3 weeks early, so we could potentially be saying Hi to our nipper in 6 weeks!  Keeping so busy with baby prep keeps the worries about pregnancy complications at bay…..most of the time. 

We put our Christmas tree up at weekend – I’d not wanted to bother as it was something else to sap our time from finishing off the baby related stuff.  I’m glad we did though as it’s a little mini goal – once Christmas is over, we’re on the 6 week countdown to the arrival.  We have 3 special baubles on the tree this year.  Our little one has their first bauble and we have 2 for our angel babies.  My mum got us the one above from my uber talented cousin.  It’s our 3 angels on a cloud!  They are looking down on our precious cargo and keeping them safe for the next 9 weeks.

For everything we’ve been through, for each storm (sometimes horrendous) we have endured, we can’t help but feel excited for the arrival of our little rainbow. My one wish for everyone going through this is that they get their rainbows very soon 🌈


So only last week I’m saying to the hubby “I’ve not done a blog for ages”. He said to me it’s maybe because there’s been nothing interesting happening. We’re at 30 weeks pregnant now and apart from heartburn, Pelvic Girdle Pain and tiredness, it’s not treating me too badly!!

Of course we’d just jinxed ourselves!! It had to happen!!

So, last week I’d decided to get help for my painful pelvis. I’d got to the point where I couldn’t turn over in bed, I couldn’t get up from sitting and walking was constantly painful. I went to see the physio who taught me to walk again. Everything needed to change…posture, how I held my tummy, how I got up to walk….. It was a minefield. But within days I noticed the difference. Techniques for turning over really helped in the middle of the night and I was finally feeling I was winning. Oh and at this point I should also add that I’d slightly aggravated my groin just before the physio by trying to stop a neighbours cat coming in the house. A little stumble and overstretch and I’m walking like John Wayne!!

So anyway, let’s get back to Monday. I’m feeling much happier now I can walk properly. I’m heading out of work, looking forwards to a relaxing evening. As I’m walking over the car park, I catch my foot in a gap in the concrete. As you do when you feel you’re falling, I start trying to run it off but my centre of gravity is slightly off and I take a monumental dive, hitting the floor bump first. I’m terrified. We’ve got this far and I’ve just screwed it all up and put our baby at risk. I’m completely devastated and hysterical. My old fiend the panic attack is back with a vengeance but I manage to prevent it from taking a grip. I somehow manage to get to my feet, sobbing and cradling my bump, noticing that someone is sat in there car directly facing the whole thing – thanks for your help then love! I ring Scott, tell him I’m going to ring St Mary’s and I’ll meet him there.

On ringing the hospital, I’m told to go to the Acute Admissions Unit, the team you see when you go into labour or have complications. I walk in, completely inconsolable, willing our baby to move. It’s been nearly an hour since the accident and still no movement.

We sit in reception and wait to be triaged. After what feels like forever, we’re called in. The healthcare assistant and student nurse explain that I need to have blood taken, another Anti-D injection and they’ll get the Doppler out to check baby. They seem to take forever to take the blood. I just want to hear our baby. When they finally gets round to listening to baby, she explains it might take a while to hear something. But thankfully it doesn’t. We hear the heartbeat straight away. I’m told that I need to have a full monitor on baby for 20 minutes to check for no signs of distress and to make sure I’m not contracting. This will be done later on by a midwife.

We spend another 4 hours waiting around for a midwife. At this point our little Cookie is having a good old wriggle. Thank god!!

Finally, at 10.30 that evening I’m called for the monitoring. We’re told I’ll be hooked up for 20 mins if baby behaves. If we have a little bugger on our hands it’ll be longer. Of course we had a little bugger!

For the first hour of the monitoring, little Cookie wriggled and played and moved around. Perfect for if I just wanted to feel movement but this was hindering the monitor. The heart rate was going up and down like a yo-yo. The heart rate ranged from 120 to 200….average for a baby is around 150ish. We needed our baby to chill. Cue Daddy. A few soothing words from Daddy and Cookie had calmed down and gone to sleep. Wow! We finally got 20 minutes of uninterrupted monitoring. They were happy with the trace and allowed us to go home – we finally left just after midnight. What a bloody night!! I’m given the strict instructions that any worries I must return immediately. Of course I will.

So a few days on and a complaint has been put into the car parking folk. They’re investigating the incident and treating it very seriously. I’ve started parking elsewhere. It’s quite ironic really that I park there due to safety concerns for me and Cookie (after a recent spate of violent muggings on the streets near work), yet the car park causes this. I have a few bruises, grazes, stiffness and ripped clothes but you know what, none of that matters. All that matters is our little Cookie is safe and sound!! Fingers and toes crossed!!