I agree with A… pregnancy stories are really the best kept secrets. Nobody ever tell you anything before you get pregnant and then everyone open up to you and come up with all sort of advises, stories and stuff that you wonder if you ever knew these women. Right from my mum to all my SILs, best friends, aunts and believe it or not even my grandma enjoyed telling me about ‘what to expect when your expecting’. And I wonder if you noticed too but they’ll tell you only that what you are supposed to know at that stage of pregnancy. For example, if you are in your first trimester they’ll only tell you what to expect during your first trimester or how their first trimesters had been. They may mention the second and the third or the delivery but not as much as they tell you about the stage that you are in. It is as if you’ll tax them for telling you a little more.
Okay here is my pregnancy story.
When Z and I first got married we didn’t think about children. We were just too much in love to be wanting to share each other with anyone else. Not that we didn’t want children, we did. ‘It would happen when the time is right’, we thought and right then the time wasn’t right. We didn’t even know each other, we had said and there was so much to settle into. A year passed, we celebrated our first anniversary but were still busy travelling and still trying to build a nest. We were travelling to and from RUH, had been to almost all the cities in the eastern region and had travelled to Bahrain and Qatar and were making plans to drive to Kuwait or the UAE when one fine morning I got up feeling funny. Funny, in the sense that I had hiccups and was burping. Knowing that I don’t hiccup at all and having heard of a friend having hiccups during her pregnancy, I got curious. That evening when Z and I went shopping, I bought myself an HPT so much to Z’s dismay that we ended up having an argument over it. Z didn’t think I could be pregnant. He didn’t want me buying an HPT because he was afraid a negative would upset me. I was so sure I could be that I felt that he didn’t want children. We argued the night away, woke up late, hurried at breakfast so that Z wouldn’t be late for work and in all that forgot about the HPT. It was 11am when I woke up from my morning nap to make lunch. Luckily, I remembered and decided to take the test then. It was positive and I could neither believe it nor could I contain my excitement. I thought I was dreaming and so called up my mother, who was in India then, to ask if I was. She was as excited as I was. I don’t remember what I made for lunch that day or how the hour passed because when Z came home I was ecstatic. I told him the good news as soon as he stepped in and he listened quietly as I narrated everything that I had been through in the past one hour and when I finally finished, he asked to see the test kit. After staring at it for a full 5 minutes he looked at me and asked, “How reliable is it?” I was shocked by this guy. Oh yeah, I lost my fuse, cried, screamed at him and then went and slept. No amount of ‘sorry’ worked and when Z came home that evening we didn’t talk. He didn’t talk because he didn’t want to get me started again. I didn’t talk ’cause I wanted the news to sink in to him. When Z and I fight, it is like children fighting. We consider each other as foe till we cool down. We did become friends again that night and decided to take the ‘wait and watch what happens’ approach but the next evening we had to go see the doc. I had suddenly become too sick the next day. We thought it was emotional but anyway… She didn’t even ask for a retest. We just proceeded as though I was pregnant but she did a USG and confirmed that I was expecting indeed. We were overjoyed and suddenly Z was all too caring, too responsible, too loving and too understanding. So much so that he got on my nerves.
What was my first trimester like? I have been told I was the luckiest because I hardly had nausea. What I had was food aversions, fatigue and hyperacidity. I was hungry all the time and if I didn’t eat for more that two hours I would have acidity and eating after that would make me throw up. There were too many things that I just didn’t like and even the mere mention of them would make me throw up. Shepherd’s pie for instance. Three days after we found out that I was pregnant we had shepherd’s pie for dinner and for some strange reason, I didn’t like it. My nausea and vomiting started the very next day after that and through out my pregnancy I threw up every time I heard/read/said the name of that dish. Another funny thing about my first trimester nausea was that I threw up only on Saturdays, Sundays and Tuesdays. The rest of the week I would be fine. Fatigue was so bad, I didn’t have the energy to even grab a packet of chips from my bedside table. But then when I had the energy, I would exhaust myself trying to be a super women.
The second trimester was spent house hunting because by then I had moved and I was too busy worrying about Z and setting up my home to notice how it went. Oh yes, I did eat too much chocolate and laughed too much because by then I had my sis clowning around me making sure I didn’t stress out. Inspite of that I did end up on a bed rest because that is when I found out I had a low lying placenta.
The third trimester was spent waddling and watching my weight. I was too fat and too heavy. I couldn’t see my feet and was too tired to do anything. I was clumsy and everything and everything dropped from my hands. I spilled hot tea on my hands and cried for three days blaming Z for letting me make tea for him. The last trimester was spent worrying about moving my furniture and stuff because the movers were giving us trouble and when it did arrive, I fretted and cried even more because most of my favorite stuff had been either lost or broken. I guess that is what tensed me enough to go into labor 24 days before my due date!
The delivery? What delivery? I didn’t deliver my baby at all… they cut open my tummy(grossly speaking)! I guess I’ll need to write another post if I want to say anything at all about the delivery.