I took multiple tests each day to make sure the line was getting darker. My google searches switched to miscarriage statistics and signs of loss. I often wonder what it must be like to go through a pregnancy without worrying that something will take your baby from you. Without waiting for bad news at every appointment. I thought that after two healthy pregnancies I might feel slightly more hopeful but alas, the feeling was the same. I never really let myself get too excited, as if it would somehow protect me from the pain if something weren’t right. It’s a sad way to experience something so beautiful, but I guess it’s human nature to want to shield yourself from heartache. 

This time around, the morning sickness hit fast and hard. I told myself that it was a good sign and that the hormones were strong, which helped make the nausea slightly more tolerable. When the time came for my six week appointment, I was a mess.

Just like each pregnancy before - my heart raced, my blood pressure was high, and when I stepped into the ultrasound room, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. My first pregnancy was a missed miscarriage late in the first trimester, so I know what it feels like to have someone tell you that there’s no heartbeat without any warning. It’s such a vivid memory that resurfaces every time I set foot in the doctor’s office.

Since I was seen quite early, the baby was still tiny but there was a flicker! I was flooded with relief, but automatically became anxious when the HR was only 100. I told myself it was too slow and that it was surely a sign that something was wrong. Even though the doctor reassured me that it was perfectly normal for this gestational age, my mind went elsewhere. I thought of my first experience with a slower than normal heartbeat, and the very insensitive doctor who told me ‘it could go either way… don’t put it on Facebook’. I was exhausted by my anxiety, so I leaned in to the love and support of my husband. I tried to accept that things would happen just as they were meant to and none of it was in my control. I reminded myself that if I didn’t lose that first baby, I wouldn’t have my James or Elle. It definitely helped me curb the constant whirlpool of negative thoughts in my head.

What a mindf*ck. The most natural thing in the world and yet we have absolutely zero control over the millions of biological processes that have to take place perfectly for a healthy baby to be born. Wild. 

The next three weeks were the toughest by far. I felt unbelievably ill. I also felt like I was failing as a wife and mother to my other children. I couldn’t tell people why I was hiding, I couldn’t get my brain to function well enough to write or even think properly, and I felt like a dark cloud was hanging over me. It’s such a strange concept to feel so awful, but to understand the need for gratitude given that so many people struggle to conceive or carry children. I shed many tears over that time and survived on orange juice, English muffins, and Pirates Booty. Coffee made me want to puke, and I couldn’t stomach any of the healthy foods I usually crave. It was especially hard when my kids kept asking me what was wrong. I told them that I had a tummy ache but wasn’t ready to explain why. James knew something was up and kept asking me if there was a baby in there (maybe the rapidly growing belly had something to do with it). Andy and I decided that if the 9 week ultrasound looked good, we’d share the news with them. To my great relief, the baby was growing and seemed healthy, so we told them they were having another sibling. James was beside himself with joy - it was definitely one of the best moments of my life. In usual Elle fashion, she was nonchalant. God I want to be like her. 

From 9.5 weeks, I started to feel a little better each day. What a blessing to have those nasty symptoms ease before 12 weeks. We were awaiting the genetic test results, so the anxiety was still there. It felt like an insidious little termite trying to burrow in and ruin things, but I did my best to keep it under control. I was able to go back to meditation (something I reallllly struggled with when I was feeling so nauseous), and I found myself feeling *slightly* more hopeful. When the results came back as low risk for genetic complications, I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Not only did I feel so much better physically, but I started to let myself believe that this was really happening. That I would get to raise another little person. Despite one slight setback at 11 weeks (F U pneumonia!!!!), I really felt like I was turning a corner. 

As I write this, I’m a different person to the one who couldn’t get out of her sweats 6 weeks ago. Although I still have moments of nausea, it’s completely manageable and my energy has returned to pre-pregnancy levels. I’m still scared of course. I know that so many things can happen between now and 40 weeks. I won’t let those fears rob me of my joy, though. I’m so thankful for all the love and support I’ve received and I can’t wait to share this journey with you all. Now someone drink a cocktail for me! 

Love,

Claire x

Photo by Tatuna Skryabina.