Day 980

So on this day, 16th March, I tend to write a more “serious” post, less about walking and more about me!

16th March is what I call our Daftiversary. It was on this date in 2016 that I officially found out not only that I was pregnant but also very pregnant. Yes, I appreciate you can’t really be just a “bit” pregnant, it really is an are or are not situation. But I went from not ever having children to being 24 weeks (and 5 days) pregnant in a matter of hours. It was very surreal.

She surprised me on that day and she still surprises me today!

Now, I sometimes forget that when I meet new people, they don’t know the history of my Stealth Ninja Baby and I have a bad habit of saying things like, “Well, I was only pregnant for 16 weeks!” Or “Well, not sure if we’ll have any more kids; we barely wanted this one!” Which can sound so wrong until you know that I honestly didn’t believe my body was fit to create and carry a child. I will never deny the enormity of the shock that I was pregnant or that I cried tonnes that day but I never didn’t want her. I never considered not doing this. I just like to crack jokes. Especially inappropriate ones.

Creating again. What she lacks in hand eye coordination, she makes up for in style and flair.

The original day in 2016 was a little crazy. I had previously had an unusual discharge while on a trip to London so decided to get checked out when I got home. As I figured the problem was gynaecological, I decided to take pregnancy test at home before making the appointment as I knew the doctor would ask whether it was possible for me to be pregnant. I figured I would be prepared, take a test and confidently say, “My body is weird, not preggo, let’s check it out.” This was the second test I had taken under similar circumstances (the first time being when I was 22 and originally being tested to see why my cycle was so long)

Problem was this time, the test came back positive.

Instead of calling my doctor, I called the Sexual Health Clinic instead and basically said, “So I just took a test. It is positive. Help.” And they did. Amazingly.

As advised, I attended the drop-in clinic, very first thing on Wednesday 16th March 2016. I was given a form to fill out and a number and told to wait in a big room with lots of other folk. I was intrigued by why everyone else was here too but figured it was a bit weird and intrusive to ask so just waited quietly.

When my number was called, I was taken to a small room with a nurse. It was the nurse’s job to assess the situation and decide what to do next, who to see, where to go. I was feeling pretty calm, I generally take things in my stride. She smiled, asked me what was going on…

And I promptly burst into tears.

After composing myself, I explained all about my broken pituitary gland, my long cycles and my total lack of definitive information about my own period.

We had a great chat, she plied me with many tissues, and sent me down to be check over by the doctor. I had stopped crying by now, thanked the nurse and headed down a corridor to the next waiting room.

I noticed that there were lots of little waiting rooms here and I was in one by myself. I wasn’t really thinking about much as I didn’t have enough information about, well, anything. I am good at working through things but I need information. I figured it wasn’t worth getting worked up til I knew more.

I was met next by a doctor just finishing up her residency called Eliza. She was lovely. She had me take another pregnancy test, which was clearly still positive, and then she asked me to tell my story again.

And I promptly burst into tears.

Once I’d calmed down, again, she asked to give me an external exam. Now, I shouldn’t laugh, and I almost did at the time, but I can still picture her face as she tried to conceal her reaction to feeling my stomach. She didn’t look panicked, just incredibly surprised and a little confused. I never thought that there was a problem, per say, but I had a feeling something was unusual. She went and brought back Dr Hunter, a specialist. Or as Eliza put it, “Someone who knows a bit more about these things than I do.” Dr Hunter came in, had another feel of my stomach and said, “Yeah. So I would estimate that you are at least 20 weeks at this stage.”

And I promptly burst into expletives. (Sorry Mammy)

To their credit, both doctors laughed…when they realised I was laughing. And then crying. And then swearing again.

They organised an ultrasound for me that morning so we could see where we were at. I was escorted by another nurse who found me an empty room where I could wait. I had contacted Numbnuts to come and meet me so I asked how I could direct my friend to meet me. This nurse then took it upon herself to make sure the reception knew who was coming and where they needed to be.

And then I promptly burst into tears.

By the time Numbnuts arrived, I had been scanned, seen by another nurse and taken back to my little room where Dr Hunter would be coming back again to talk. I was also sure I had rid my body of all moisture. However, as soon as she walked in the room…

I promptly burst into tears. And disbelieving laughter.

I was overwhelmed by so many things that day but the one thing that resonates still today was just how supported, listened to, acknowledged and cared for the staff at the clinic made me feel. They must see thousands upon thousands of people every week but I never felt like I was overreacting or not being heard. I will never forget any of them and I will never have the words to say thank you.

Though I did send a card after she was born.

Back to today. The weather was horrendous all day so we just did some housework, lots of art, some dancing, plenty of books and pancakes for breakfast. I had to finish the steps off after bedtime with my pal Leslie.

The forecast looks much brighter for tomorrow so looking forward to getting out and about again!

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