My 12th pregnancy. Not a simple picnic in the park.
I know how inordinately lucky I am to have three, healthy, beautiful boys. I never take them for granted. Even when I’m at the end of my last wit after four days of bickering and punch ups over the bank holiday. I love these boys like nothing else. They inhabit my every waking thought. Gently, quietly. But they’re always there. Even though they may be far away geographically - I don’t send them away for myself, Toby and I miss them desperately - but we do it for them. We could not cherish them any more than we do. Every moment, happy or tricky is sacred.
Despite the great privilege of being a mother to three boys, I have so longed (perhaps greedily) for another child, and we just didn’t think it would ever happen. After 8 miscarriages we gave up hope. Counted our blessings and came to terms with it.
So, despite bemoaning the 20 stone of extra lead I seem to be carrying about - already - and I’m only in week 14 out of 40 (should I be THIS fat already??) I promise that I appreciate that this little baby growing inside me is a fragile miracle.
I have tried - very hard - not to overthink this pregnancy. I’ve felt too sick to be too much of a basket case. I’ve been horizontal for most of the time since getting home from Argentina. Ironically, eating solidly throughout the day is the only cure i have found to work for this nausea. But - I think quite naturally - I have been anxious. Not debilitating but the anxiety is there, humming along, in the background.
Until it ramped up a few days ago. I had some light bleeding on Saturday and it, deeply, frightened me. I spent the entire day on tenterhooks. Trying to focus on the children and celebrate everyone being at home together for Pippin’s 4th birthday. While struggling to keep the inner turmoil at bay.
We were able to go into Exeter for a scan the next afternoon but the hours in between seemed endless. The nightmare of worst case scenarios. That I have already lived through. Played mercilessly on a loop.
I won’t go into the gory details but anyone who has been in this scary position will know the darkest fears. The agonising, bone shaking dread.
The relief when the man doing the ultrasound saw our baby’s little heartbeat and turned on the monitor. Was overwhelming. I had not realised quite how terrified I’d been until the horror was over. For now.
And when we first saw him ( I just know he’s a boy - but we are not going to find out until he’s born for certain), he was first shown on his knees, he seemed to be praying. Just like his Mumma had been. Then he turned over and lay in his back, with his legs crossed and his arms behind his head. As if to say, 'Now try to chill, Mum.'
Only another 26 weeks to go… gulp. 🙏🏼
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