My Least Favourite Things to Throw Up

Finally I can start to write freely about that last few months. I say finally because the last two most has properly dragged. We FINALLY announced that we are expecting. We are getting Aro a human sibling. I am currently 13 weeks pregnant and my experience so far has been that of a roller-coaster, probably a similar idea if not the same for most expectant Mams.

I found out a day before my missed period, with a curiosity test after several failed pee sticks in the back of my mind. Genuinely thinking that the small strip test, bought in bulk from the internet was going to come up with just the test line and nothing else. My first challenge was peeing in a cup. Well not a cup, because the last time I did this I felt too strange about re-using the cup for anything actually drinkable so it ended up filed under B1N. I opted for the lid for the shaving foam on the side of the bath (thoroughly washed out)… nothing was ever drank out of it, nothing will ever be drunk out of it. Problem solved. Although it was a rather small pot to pee in, which comes with its own difficulties.  The little card strip got dipped in the pot of pee up to the ‘do not cross’ line and the two mins wait while I dried my hair wasn’t too bad as I was expecting it to do nothing anyway –“I’m not that lucky” I thought.

I peered at the pee stick with no hope, to see what I expected. Absolutely nothing. I continued to get ready that morning (it was a Saturday so a leisurely job). I picked up the stick again, admitting defeat and about to throw it in the bin. BUT, in whatever different light I picked it up in there was an ever so pale and slight second pink line. I was adamant that it was my imagination. Even took photo’s half ready to post it online to see if anyone on my fave mamma site could decide either way. My head won the battle and remembered there was a digital pee stick in the bedside draw (groupon purchase). Disgustingly the pee pot was still on the side of the bath, which meant for east testing. Dip and wait.

Only the longest 3 freaking minuets of my entire existence. The pee stick had this stupid count down on it, and with each flash of a grey square I got closer to the stick till I was knelt on the bathroom floor with my nose practically touching the dip stick.

One word appeared after the damn thing stopped flashing. PREGNANT.

Between that moment and Man getting home from a Saturday morning shift, I was almost certainly more of a fidget than normally. Id prepared how I’d tell him months before. Making a somewhat geeky joke involving a T.A.R.D.I.S baby grow and card. Implied meaning “bigger on the inside”.

The week we found out, was the week we lost Man’s Dad. So very mixed emotions and it didn’t feel like we could be amazingly glad of our news when something unbelievably sad was going on. We told our closest family in early December with Christmas cards, and wrote a Christmas card to Granddad and asked for it to be placed in the casket with Man’s pops. I know he will know now where ever his spirit is, but I know Man took it hard because he couldn’t tell him.

The rest of the family found out on Christmas day. One of the first questions ask was “well does that mean you’re getting married then” – URGH archaic thought process.

From week 7 through to current I have thrown up almost every single night. I can confidently tell you that out of all the tea time treats I have vom’d that Spaghetti is my least favourite thing to chuck up, closely followed by sausages (these were horrifically spikey on the wrong way out, and I’m pretty sure I damaged my oesophagus regurgitating this delight). I’m very much looking forward to not throwing up on a night…. I’m hoping at least that it will ease off. 

L xox 

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