Early Pregnancy with Baby Number 3.
*Note* I wrote all of these posts as they happened as a way of dealing with all the emotions that went along with the waiting and the procedure itself. This post was started at the beginning of December and Part 4 takes us to the middle of February.
After a little wait at the hospital until I felt less fuzzy headed and weird we paid for parking and headed home. I was ravenous. I hadn’t been able to eat anything before having the procedure, not because they told me not to just because I couldn’t stomach anything. I settled into the car journey and tried to have a little kip. The traffic had other ideas… It took us about hour to get 1/2 a mile up the road from the hospital. Ridiculous. Luckily for me there is a KFC round about that spot on the way home so off we went. Like I said, ravenous! KFC has vastly improved in recent years and the fries are actually nice now!
The traffic continued for quite a while, ugh. We left the hospital at midday and we had to pick Dylan up at 3:15pm which you would think would be plenty of time but as it was we arrived outside our gaff at 3:11, just enough time for Joe to bolt it up to preschool. I headed to bed.
I felt really achey, crampy and generally yukky. I was exhausted but I just couldn’t sleep. But how on earth do you relax when you have are on a countdown to either great news or devastating news?
Relaxation wasn’t possible so I watched crap on netflix, obviously. Now, here is where you start judging me… to unwind when I am at my most stressed or when I can’t switch off my mind I tend to watch one of 2 things; either docos on murderers or docos on cults. Seriously. I am sure that speaks volumes about my rather crackpot personality and I am pretty sure Joe is worried that I am plotting something (I’m really not). So I watched a doco on Josef Fritzl… like you do. But obviously it really didn’t help.
Dylan got back from preschool and kept coming up to check on me and to give me kisses and cuddles. He also bought up his Doctor’s kit to give me the once over. Dylan’s Doctor’s kit is terrifying as it is half faux-medical equipment and half DIY. He is basically Sweeny Todd. He took my pulse, he listened to my chest, he checked my tempurature, axed one of my ears, sawed a bit of my arm and then drilled my head. I got the once over from the scariest Doctor since Shipman. Lucky me.
The rest of Tuesday was a mix of chilling, trying to sleep, not sleeping, cuddles with a whirlwind and desperately NOT thinking about getting the results. The Genetic Counsellor had said that the test result for SMA could take 3 to 5 days depending on the sample but if the sample wasn’t good then it could take up to 2 weeks. The prospect of a 2 week wait was terrifying, I think I would have actually gone insane.
Joe was going to work from home on Wednesday so I could chill. I was still feeling really uncomfortable and very crampy. The procedure came with risks of miscarriage, 1 in every 100 procedures ended in a miscarriage but this was no higher than the risk of miscarriage at this stage in pregnancy anyway. I tried to relax, I really did but it was hard. My brain would not shut up. It flitted between child-like optamism and black-depressive doom and gloom. It was exhausting. The constant whiring was draining. A huge part of me thought that maybe we’d get the results back within 24hrs, foolish, obviously that didn’t happen. Dylan came back from Preschool and we snuggled down to watch a film. We tried not to think about the results and what would happen next.
Thursday, Joe went back to work and I took Dylan to preschool. I’d had a terrible nights sleep so I went back to bed for the morning. It was quite a fitful sleep, not particularly restful but I did get some shut eye.
12:22 my phone rang. Private Number. Eek. I answered.
“Hello Emma, it’s Jeanette [The Genetic Counsellor]. Are you ok to talk?”
“Yes. I’m in bed”
“Oh. I have had a call from the Lab and your results will be with me in the next 10 minutes. Is it ok for me to call you in 10 minutes with the results?”
“Ok, speak to you in 10. Bye”
…What am I suppose to do now!? 10 minutes to panic? 10 minutes to go back to sleep? (as if) Make a cuppa? I went for a wee and then paced the hallway for a what felt like an hour but was actually 2 minutes and then I opted for warmth and duvet so crawled back into bed.
To be honest, the “your results will be here in 10min” call was totally horrendous. I understand the reasons for the warning, she wanted to make sure I was able to talk and that I was somewhere that I could deal with potentially awful news. But in reality, it was just an absolutely awful 10 minutes.
My phone started to ring again. Private number. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“It’s going to be bad news. Really really bad news” I whispered to myself as I answered the call.
“Hello Emma, it’s Jeanette. I have the results.”
“Emma, the baby doesn’t have Spinal Muscular Atrophy”
Huge exhale, I didn’t even realise that I had held my breath.
“The baby is also clear of Down’s Syndrome, Edwards Syndrome and Patau’s Syndrome”
Another huge exhale.
“And Emma, you’re having a boy”
Tears. Lots of tears. And wave after wave of purest, unadulterated relief, 12 weeks of pent up fear, upset and worry washed away.
“Thank you, thank you…”
I might have said “thank you” so several minutes, poor woman. Oh and we had agreed that we wanted to know the baby’s sex beforehand… she wasn’t spoiling the surprise!
We spoke for a few more moments, I have no idea about what. I wanted to leap around and shout things from rooftops, I wanted to indulge in most of cliches that folk say. So what did I do? I went to Morrisons!
Yep that’s right, I celebrated the good news by getting dressed for the first time in about 48hrs and wandered up to Morrisons with 2 purposes… get something yummy for dinner and to buy something for the baby as a way of telling Joe that everything was fine with the baby. I have no idea what I bought for dinner, I bought myself a Prawn Mayo sarnie (preggo craving at the time) and then I got the baby a really cute sleepsuit with little dinosaurs on, a little gift bag and some silver tissue paper.
I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling with Dylan after preschool, watching Trolls and making a pregnancy announcement for our family and one for social media (coz I am a social media nobber like that). I’ll do a blog post about my pregnancy announcements, I love a pregnancy annoucement! When Joe got home from work I gave him his gift bag. He was a little slow on the up-take but then I watched as the fear, worry and upset washed away from him. It was a moment that I will never forget.
Thank you for reading.