Pregnancy Diary Week 6: Finding Out
Can toddlers sense pregnancy hormones? If mine can, he’s pretty darn pissed about it. This is my irrational “mumsnet” thought of the day as I collapse in a nauseous, exhausted, emotional heap after a fairly horrific few hours of parenting. At six weeks pregnant, things are a little different second time around. Since finding out two weeks ago, I’ve been in what feels like an endless stretch of limbo. The morning (and evening) sickness and incredible tiredness now the norm, making each day a little tougher, but also helping me to feel like my body is doing what it should be. We have decided not to tell anyone until our first scan, in part due to a miscarriage a few months ago and feeling as though things are still a little uncertain. When pregnant with our first baby (a now very “spirited” [rolls eyes] 18 month old), I didn’t find out until nine weeks. Yes, I am an idiot. This time around we had decided to throw caution to the wind and were at it like rabbits (well, as parents of a toddler, think slightly overweight, sedentary house rabbits rather than frisky, wild bunnies), hoping for our next miracle. When we conceived first time we weren’t trying, we just got carried away one night, surely far too late in my cycle to worry about our lack of protection. I missed all the tell-tale signs: missed period, cramps, nausea, tender breasts, due to confusion with the symptoms following a recent cervical cancer procedure; so when I finally took a pregnancy test after talking things through with a much less ignorant friend, I was a little shocked and overwhelmed. We were ready enough and after a few weeks I began to feel happy, excited and actually very, very lucky. I have always known that we were incredibly fortunate in many ways, not only did I discover that my body was still working following months of recovery, but we were spared the torturous months/years of trying and waiting, which many couples go through. We had also sailed through those very long early weeks of pregnancy in blissful ignorance (spending much of it in the pub, good grief!). No waiting and worrying or ticking off the days, which is where we are at now. As much as I try to carry on as normal, thoughts of our unborn baby consume most moments and however many times I check my pregnancy app (OK, apps), I’m still only six weeks through. On days like today, I feel as though caring for two children is a next to impossible feat. How am I supposed to hold a new born whilst trying to stop my toddler from head butting the pavement in a fit of molar induced, Tasmanian devil style rage? Will our washing machine spontaneously combust with the burden of one more tiny human’s poo stained garments? Can I really do it all again? But then I think about the gorgeous weekend we’ve just had and how I watched my son with my best friend’s new born baby, my heart melting as he stroked the baby’s head and cooed his name softly. Such warmth, and gentleness and kindness amongst all the boisterous toddler mayhem. Maybe he does sense that I’m pregnant and maybe a baby brother or sister would be an awfully big adventure. We shall see.