I recently rebranded my blog, which meant just starting again from scratch because I’m not technologically savvy enough to edit what I already had. It was also a physical manifestation of change in myself; a shedding of the old and letting go of the past to move forward with the future. In saying that, it didn’t feel right to not include the story that prompted the beginnings of my blogging journey, it’s a part of me. So over the next few weeks, I will be posting up that story. It’s 10 parts, all in the present tense, starting from around June 2018, as what was originally supposed to be a weekly pregnancy journal. Afio mai (welcome), to the beginning
I mean I was highly suspicious, given I went and bought a pregnancy test at the hospital pharmacy and then hid myself in the operating theatre changing rooms at work on my lunch break. It was only last month I was in here on a particularly busy on-call shift having just bleed through a tampon, my underwear and scrub pants during a rather heavy cycle.
Here I am again; last month – not pregnant, this month – pregnant. Crap.
I’ve always wanted to have a family, craved my own children really, but right here in this moment I’m not ready. It’s the wrong timing. I’m not married yet; I always wanted to be married first – apart from the feeling of being more unified, who wants to get rid of baby weight for a wedding when they still haven’t gotten rid of their general excess weight from life.
I’ve had pregnancy ‘scares’ before – I thought I looked a bit more fat and bloated than normal; surely that’s not my real stomach! (It was my real stomach). This time was the longest I’d waited to check. I got my normal mid-cycle cramps with the ever-welcome tender breasts that usually last a day. Then they didn’t. They lasted a week and oh boy, were those breasts tender – like a supermarket chicken! Don’t touch my nipples thank you, enough of that. I waited till I missed my period by 2-3 days before getting the test. After recalculating my LMP (last menstrual period), I realised my period was actually off by a week, so… I guess it’s not just food-related.
I didn’t tell my partner at first. We had talked recently and knew we both weren’t ready and as a completely unplanned, life-changing situation, I wanted him to have a little more time to be stress and care-free. As a renown chatter, keeping my mouth shut was rather difficult. I broke down the morning after the test because I realised I needed pregnancy meds, which are particularly good for helping protect against neural tube defects (spinal cord problems) in the foetus. I was being a bit of a stickler because I could have bought them straight away at the pharmacy, but it was $30 cheaper with a prescription – I know this because I asked the guy at my local Countdown two days before with my basket full of chocolate and mandarins (yay healthy!). So here I am freaking out because all the doctors in the West Auckland region open on a Saturday are either 1) outrageously expensive (what is with GP prices – and that’s a medical opinion), 2) are closed, or 3) don’t take new clients on a Saturday. I was so upset. I just wanted a prescription! I knew exactly what I wanted; I knew the dose, the timing. They’re pretty straightforward drugs to prescribe. You’re pregnant; here is your pregnancy medication that all women take. Simple. I even resorted to texting a friend to see if she was around for “something” and hoping she would have a prescription pad on her. By the time she replied I had managed to secure an appointment in the ever-reliable region of South Auckland.
My partner was confused as to why I was so upset. Hilariously enough, I was sure I had a simultaneous vaginal infection (yum I know, don’t pretend you haven’t had one too) and I freaked out that it would make me more likely to miscarry so I needed antibiotics today! Plus it was dam itchy. As a result, and oblivious, my partner drove me to the appointment and waited for me in the context of having a vaginal infection – yes get that treated immediately please (also different to an STI FYI – I know what you be thinking).
Pregnancy confirmed (I literally did the same urine test twice before coming here). Prescription sorted. Vaginal infection (turns out I had two, but didn’t realise – maybe not so common) on the mend.