My IVF Diary 3: 30-32 weeks pregnant

13 Jul

30 weeks – 3/4 of the way through. Every week feels increasingly exciting now as new milestones are hit and my boy grows stronger and closer to meeting us.

However, with each week passing, so the discomfort moves up a notch. I’m struggling to walk at all due to pain in my pelvis, hips and sides.

Baby’s movement this week has become slower but powerful, purposeful and intense! It’s reassuring but sometimes has me screaming out loud.

My craving right now is TGI Fridays strawberry lemonade slush. But, since I am unable to get out of the house barely, this is a tough craving to satisfy. My hubby has valiantly made the odd evening trip up to the nearest restaurant with a giant lidded cup to fetch me a takeaway from the bar, but it’s not sustainable and isn’t enough to satisfy my constant need.

So I do the next best thing I can think of and order an ice crusher, some strawberry cocktail purée, a 2kg bag of ice chips and a bottle of lemonade so I can make my own.

In just a few days, the items are delivered and the crushing commences. I try combining the ingredients to recreate the TGI cocktail, but it’s not quite the same. May take me a few attempts to refine my technique. Plus, it’s quite sickly, so I decide to alternate it with other crushed delicacies such as iced water with a dash of lemonade, iced orange fizz and iced coke. Typically, the iced coke is my favourite, I’ve been wrestling to avoid it throughout this whole pregnancy, but the damn stuff keeps taunting me so I vow to strictly ration myself.

After a relatively trouble free week, Friday throws a curveball when my son is sent home from school at lunchtime with a fever. Great, just what I need right now.. A flipping virus.

I have to call hubby to collect him as I can’t drive to the school, and when he comes home we agree that I should stay at arms length while we watch to see how it develops.

The fever remains high all night and all of the following day despite multiple doses of calpol and nurofen. My son complains of tummy pain and sore throat and I assume it to be flu until I remember that my hubby was ill with a fever and sore throat on the Thursday evening.

I have a hunch that this is just too late in the year for flu, and may be connected to my husband’s off day. So I begin googling “spring viruses”. One possibility strikes me… Scarlet Fever. I had seen on the news that it, and may other virtually extinct illnesses were making a comeback and the symptoms on the nhs website seem to tie up with the early stages of the virus.

By next morning, my son gets out of bed and I immediately spot what looks like a prickly heat rash on his torso. As he approaches me, I study it further and am convinced it is Scarlet Fever. S***.

I phone NHS direct who book an appointment with the out of hours doctor that same morning, and within a few hours his diagnosis is confirmed and penicillin prescribed for a full two weeks.

I phone my new hospital to ask how this might affect a pregnant lady, and the midwife consults the microbiologist for an answer. They confirm that it is not known to be immediately risky to a pregnant woman unless she passes it on to baby, which is most likely if infected whilst in labour, but that should I develop any symptoms at all (such as a sore throat), I must immediately obtain antibiotics. Since I am still at risk of premature labour, my hubby instructs me to move out to my parents house for a couple of days while my boy’s antibiotics kick in.

I agree, but feel awful for leaving them when I should be caring for them. But I guess I am a mother of two now, so I have to look after this little boy in my tummy as well as the little boy on the outside.

31 weeks – 2nd day away from my son and husband. Feeling so guilty. Spend most of the day on the phone for updates of his progress, and receiving texts, pictures and videos of him to keep me sane.

That aside, my parents are proving good hosts and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the peace and tranquility of adult company and the luxury of being waited on.

By Tuesday, my son has been on the antibiotics for 48 hours, his temperature has returned to normal and he is recovered enough to attend school, so I am able to go home.

I promise my husband I will get back before he drops my son to childminders at 8am, so I am up early to prepare for my lift home.

When I arrive home at 7.30am, my boy is dressed and clean all ready to greet me. This is a miracle. He runs towards me beaming and throws his arms around me for a hug. I spend 20 minutes asking him how he feels and what he got up to before he has to leave. As he exits, he grabs my tummy and kisses the baby goodbye. My heart melts.

On Friday I have my 2nd appointment with my new Consultant. I’m feeling crappy. As I traipse the hospital corridors I am out of breath, dizzy, have no energy and need to pee with every step. However, all my observations are fine… My blood pressure is text book, my urine dip is clear, my bump size is bang on target. Baby is head down and settling into my pelvis. That explains the need to wee, since every twitch reverberates on my bladder. Ouch!

The consultant sends me for a repeat blood test for iron levels to verify the results from my previous hospital and to see if the spatone supplement is sufficient at the current level. He agrees to call me with the results on Monday. Blimey, service.

I am also booked in for a growth scan in two weeks time with a consultant appointment immediately after. Damn this place is so efficient compared to my old hospital. I’m actually beginning to rather enjoy this experience.

Finally, we discussed the whooping cough vaccine and the birth. It is agreed that I will not be permitted to go overdue because there is no benefit to the baby but the risk of placental abruption and failure increases for me due to the a SCH. Therefore, a judgement call will be made prior to 40 weeks on the right time to bring the boy out depending on how his growth and my health progresses over the coming weeks. So bubs will arrive before his due date. Yikes! Scary! But a relief to know that I now have a drop dead date, and it isn’t 42 weeks like last time!

Symptoms this week are to be expected at this stage: needing to pee every 5 minutes and skin itching all over. I’m so uncomfortable in my own skin I’m finding it hard to tolerate any clothing.

Fortunately, the increase in my spatone iron supplement isn’t causing any obvious side effects, but an increase in my reflux is making it hard to drink the glass of orange juice I need to take the supplement.

Cravings are simple. Ice, ice, ice. I’m crushing ice for Britain, eating almost 1kg per day. Im trying all toppings, but my favourite is still coke. Gah!

32 weeks – This week I’m tired, uncomfortable, snappy and tearful. Just generally feeling run down and miserable.

My mood isn’t helped by the fact that my son’s behaviour is really poor. He is constantly playing up, craving attention and acting like a total brat. Everything I hate in a kid.

I am due my whooping cough vaccine on the Wednesday but that morning the surgery calls to tell me that the nurse is off sick and I will have to re-book for a later date, which I do immediately.

I’m sleeping lots, eating non stop and crunching on ice, ice and more ice! I’m feeling sick most of the time, can hardly breathe and have pressure in my pelvis.

Baby is moving lots again now and it seriously hurts.

I feel sorry for the people living with me, especially my husband. I must be an absolute monster to be around.

At the weekend, I am still moody. I’m feeling wracked with guilt that I don’t have the energy or mobility to play with my son and am blaming his bad behaviour on boredom, which is of course my fault.

In the evening, he spots some other children from the neighbourhood playing outside, and goes out front to join them. I am happy for him to have some company, so when he insists on having his dinner outside so he can talk to the neighbours kids, I agree against my better judgement. I set up the camping chair, place a tray on his lap and instruct him to hold it steady while he eats. He manages all of two whole spoons before, distracted by the other children, he knocks the whole dinner on the floor. Having waddled in pain around the kitchen for 20 minutes for the first time in months to cook this feast, only for him to waste it all because he can’t concentrate makes me furious and I totally over react.

After 15 minutes of shouting and screaming in a wholly irrational manner, I remember this is a 4 year old clutz I am dealing with, not an evil, malicious, mastermind, calm down and remake the dinner.

Afterwards, I have a really nice chat with my son about the baby. He says he is looking forward to meeting him, and asks what type of hospital we will go to to meet him. We discuss what will happen when the baby comes and when he can come to see him for a cuddle.

I sense that he is really looking forward to having some younger company around the house. I am relieved, but also feel like an inadequate parent right now for boring him.

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