December 30, 2014
We have three children, who we love etc etc, blah blah, blah. But one thing’s for sure is that none of them were planned. They were in a theoretical “One day we’ll have children” kind of way, but in fact that was meant to be four; two close together then a big gap and two more. That was as near to a plan as we had and even that didn’t work out.
I was still technically married to someone else (TTT although he’d left months before) when I collapsed and had to be rushed to hospital for an emergency operation the outcome of which was the surgeon telling me I would have great difficult conceiving. In fact he thought it highly unlikely given the state of my insides after he’d finished with them (TMI, sorry). Bit of a shocker. That wasn’t part of the plan.
So pregnancy was not anywhere on my differential diagnosis for the overwhelming fatigue I felt on our first long weekend away together – a romantic break in Paris – a few weeks later. But started to figure when I missed my period, but thought more likely to be a post operative issue. So we bought the pregnancy test and I did it before going to work. The appearance of the Thin Blue Line stunned me. I couldn’t take it in. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. We weren’t ready for this. I was still married FFS! I drove to work in a daze and had a final cigarette. Well, half of one. And felt guilty about it. Having not felt guilty for the 20 a day I’d been having up till that point. So for Number one child, the overwhelming feeling was shock. Shock and awe.
For Number two the circumstances were completely different. We were married with one small child and we’d thought it amazing that I’d managed to conceive at all, and knew we definitely wanted more than one but thought that may be highly unlikely. With the fatigue and relentlessness of newborn life, we didn’t really think about when we’d like another. I seemed to lose the baby weight from Number one and I hadn’t had a period at all since the first baby, but that was rectified once the breastfeeding reduced around Christmas and as I reduced it further, I started putting on a bit of weight . It wasn’t until I was unable to do up my jeans and felt the baby move that I realised I was pregnant with Number two. Turns out the ‘period’ was an implantation bleed so I was 19 weeks when I first went to the doctor to have it confirmed!. That feeling was pleasure at being able to have another baby and relief at having so much less of pregnancy to be aware of. Number two was born 14 months after Number one.
Number three on the other hand was another kettle of fish. When I discovered I was pregnant I was gutted. Again, couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. But a drunken girls night with an excess of rum and coke had meant me attacking my sleeping husband when I returned home and this was the outcome (no pun intended). But this was such bad timing. We had our first holiday booked (a friend’s house in Provence) and now I wasn’t going to be able to drink. Alcohol had got me in to this predicament, but it certainly wasn’t going to help me though it. That would have to wait another nine months.