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(RL) The Second and Third Trimester

1.Finding Out
2.First Trimester

This whole time was a bit of a blur to me. I thought I had made peace with the fact that I was pregnant, that I was going to be a mother. In hindsight though, I really hadn't. I just told myself that I had. I kidded myself into believing that I was ok with everything that was going on and I just lived my life as normal. Looking back now I realize how isolated I had made myself. I didn't speak about my pregnancy because in my head it was no big deal. In my head I believed that I would just go rent a room with my friends and my baby and that we would all live happily ever after under one roof and there would never be a problem. Of course real life hit me eventually and I realised there was no way that I would be able to stay in London. How would I afford it? How could I go to work and pay for childcare and rent, let alone how to pay for food and clothing? How could I have a screaming baby in my house with my friends, keeping them awake at night when they have stressful jobs and work long hours? It wasn't their baby to deal with. The only way I was ever going to manage was to move back to Dublin. I hated the idea and every time I thought of it, it made me sick to my stomach. And still, I didn't talk about how sad it made me.

I was going to stay in London and have my baby there and after a couple of weeks, I was going to move home, back into my mothers house. That alone was going to kill me. How could I move back in with my mother? And with a baby too. I have a fantastic relationship with my mother, I adore her. We never fought or anything like that so I knew that wasn't going to be an issue, it was the fact that I would have no space. I had to swallow it and take it though, what else could I do? It was either spend my life with my child living in poverty in London or move home. I had to go back.

I had my 20 week scan and I found out I was having a boy. I can't really say how I felt at that point because honestly I don't remember. Most of my memories of this time was fear that I kept burying and complete numbness.

By this stage I had gotten over my fear of childbirth and I decided that I was ok with a vaginal delivery. That word is fucking gross though. I did more and more research on it and I truly believed I was going to be ok having him that way. One thing I found out about when it comes to talking about birth to some women, they can get very judgy. Like holy shit some people are really bad. I have heard people say if you have csection that you never even gave birth. I have heard women say that if you had an epidural you "failed". Are you fucking kidding me?! It's nobody's business how you give birth or why you decided to do it that way as long you made an informed decision on what you felt was best for you and your baby at the time. I am not an advocate for any type of birth, whether it was natural, medicated, unassisted... whatever. Do what you feel most comfortable with. Within reason of course. Like if you nearly died in a previous birth and you wanna go unassisted this time round... I'd probably tell you maybe you should reconsider.

In the end, I decided on a home birth.

I never really looked forward to having my baby. I didn't ever get that longing to hold him or to see him. I didn't even want to know what he looked like. Even when he kicked and rolled, it made me shudder instead of smile. I guess all of this was warning signs that I wasn't coping but I just didn't listen to it. I guess its kinda hard to look forward to something you honestly didn't believe was going to happen.

And all of the stuff that was going to happen after I had him wasn't worth thinking about because I would just want to crawl under a rock and stay there.

(RL) The First Trimester

I really feel like since I started writing about this, I have already started feeling a bit better. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I can be completely honest while writing and not feel guilty about how I felt or if it's the fact that I can read over it as if it's not me who was going through this and I can analyse it a bit better and start to pick things apart in my brain. Either way, it's helping so I'll continue.

This is the first part here: Finding Out

So let me start by asking one question: Whoever said "morning sickness" is fucking liar. It should be called all day and night sickness. It was horrible. In and out of the bathroom constantly gagging. Nothing spelled particularly bad and I could eat normally. I was just gagging and puking all the time. It's pretty normal though, so I guess I couldn't complain too much about that.

About three weeks before I found out I was pregnant, I had left a really secure job with a company I really liked, I had been working there for over three years. I left because I was headhunted by a woman who was in the process of opening her own business and she needed a manager. My work background is mostly in the hospitality industry but I am also a tattoo artist and I do nails (go figure :P). She needed someone quickly and I honestly couldn't turn down the opportunity to get some experience in opening a restaurant and getting that on my CV.

I got back from holiday, had told my ex boyfriend and I was now in a job that I had no security in. The only thing I could hold onto was the fact that I did an amazing job at opening the store. I literally got everything ready in three weeks for her and it opened without a hitch. I had to bite the bullet and tell her as soon as possible so the first day I came back in, I asked her to have a meeting with me. I cried when I told her but she assured me that it was fine, that my job was safe and that she'd support me any way she could. She was a fucking liar.

So being tired and forgetful is awful in the first few weeks and I was no different. To make a long story short she pushed me out. I was better off resigning that having her fire me. She made me feel like I was shit at my job and that I wasn't doing anything right. She said I was aggressive and loads of other stuff that wasn't true. I remember coming home the night that I resigned and just sitting on my bed, tears streaming down my face and just feeling hopeless. It felt like there was such a heavy weight on my shoulders and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was living in London, single, pregnant, no family around me and now I was unemployed too. The only thing I could think about was myself. If I wasn't pregnant, none of this would matter. That's when I started going hysterical.

I emailed and called some family planning clinics, leaving my name and number and begging for them to give me an appointment as soon as possible because I couldn't do this, I couldn't cope. I had it in my head that I was going to have an abortion and all of my problems would go away. I would like to listen to some of the messages I left, I bet I sounded like a crazy bitch on the phone.I was desperate to get rid of this thing in my womb. Well for a day or two I was, anyway.

I got some calls back from the clinics and After speaking to the first lady on the phone I told her I was sorry I had called, I had panicked. I do not disagree with abortion, in fact I am very pro choice. But that's not something I could do myself. I thought I could but I guess I didn't have it in me. I'm not entirely sure I would ever get over the mental trauma I would put myself through if I went ahead with it. I can't kill a spider without feeling bad about it for weeks. It's pretty pathetic really.

So I don't know how the maternity services work in other parts of the world but in England it's mostly midwife led. If you are a high risk patient then you would be under the care of a consultant. I was low risk. My midwife called me and I had my booking appointment a few days before my 12 week scan. She was lovely. She made me feel at ease and answered all the questions I was too afraid to even ask. She read me very well. For one, I was not giving birth through my vagina. Fuck. That. Other womens vaginas might stretch like that, mine doesn't. I told her that I was going to give birth through a nice clean incision in my stomach and there wasn't anything she could do to stop me. Again, fear.

She wasn't trying to stop me, she wrote it down and told me I would need to speak to some people but it should be fine as long as it was a genuine fear. It was.

During my first twelve weeks, I tried as hard as I could to ignore that I was pregnant. I tried to ignore that there was a little parasite buried in my womb, getting bigger by the day and pretty soon it was going to be too big to stay in there anymore. It was going to come out and I was going to be a mother. I didn't talk about being pregnant to anyone and they didn't talk about it to me. It was the elephant in the room that nobody wanted to talk about, least of all me. I'm not sure how you can actually ignore the fact that you're pregnant but I did manage for a while. I managed right up to the point where I was stood outside the sonographers room with my mam. After that, everything went to hell.

You know the paper cloth they give you to tuck into your trousers to stop that jelly from going onto your clothes? I was so scared I tucked it under my top, not the band of my jeans. Cool. My whole body was trembling. So bad that the guy went and got a nurse to check my blood pressure andsat me back outside for fifteen minutes before we started. I went back in and he put the doppler on my stomach and bam. There it was. Right in front of me on a screen was my baby. Its arms and legs were moving and its head was turning.

I was so numb, the only thing I remember after that was hearing his heartbeat. I lay as still as possible, crying my heart out. I don't even know why I was crying so much. It wasn't tears of joy, I wasn't sad. I was so overwhelmed that I just don't think I knew how to react and I broke down instead. But it was at that point that I stopped ignoring it. I knew I was pregnant. Those 8 pregnancy tests that I had done were all right. There was actually a baby in there.

Honestly, I was still unsure if I even wanted any of it or even if I could cope but now I had no choice.

Put up or shut up.