Being Pregnant

Many women have told me they loved being pregnant. I wish I was one of them, I really do, but I hated it. Luckily, I got two incredible kids out of it, so it was definitely worth it.

Losing A Pregnancy

I was actually pregnant three times. I lost the first at around the three-month mark; it's been five years, but I still remember the due date. Watching what should have been my first child get dropped into a preservation jar from a pair of forceps at the hospital is an image that has never left me. I get tears whenever I think about it.

My husband and I were much more subdued when I got pregnant again. We were happy, don't get me wrong, but the 'once bitten twice shy feeling' came into it. We waited as long as we could before we told anyone. We didn't buy anything 'just in case', and every sentence ended in 'if everything turns out all right'. I bled for the first three months, and every day, we expected bad news again. As the pregnancy got further and further, we relaxed more and more. Eventually, we allowed ourselves to get tentatively excited.

Pregnancy Insomnia

I got hit by insomnia within days of conception for all three pregnancies. The first time it happened, I didn't know why I couldn't sleep. I knew I was pregnant the second and third time before we even took a test because of it. It was a strange kind of 'can't get to sleep'. Usually, there is a reason you can pinpoint: your brain is too active, you aren't tired yet, or there's something that explains the sleeplessness. Pregnancy insomnia lacks any brain activity behind it; you just can't get to sleep for no reason at all - it's frustrating. I wish I could say I found a way to fix it, but I never did. Then, when I did manage to sleep, I would have the most intense, vivid dreams.

Morning Sickness

During my first two pregnancies, I got morning sickness. The first time, the nausea was at random times… morning, evening, or night; it didn't seem to matter. Maybe because there was something wrong, I don't really know. The morning sickness was definitely in the morning for my second pregnancy and first child, and there was no way I was moving from the bathroom before midday. It lasted until eleven weeks, and then it improved day by day. By week thirteen, I was fine. The first pregnancy, I don't know the sex of the one I lost, but the second time was with a girl. My last was a boy. I had no sickness with him, not even a hint of nausea. They say morning sickness is worse with the girls; maybe the old wives' tales are true.

Age Discrimination

I was just into my fourth decade for the births of my kids. For my first, I had just turned 40; for my second, I was 42. I was forced to smile sweetly through more than a few 'you are too old' or other similar comments. Although, in truth, I have discovered that 'age' comments against women are not limited to just pregnancy. The world seems to feel free to discriminate against women past 35, with increasing intensity.

Pregnancy Tests

My husband and I decided to have a blood test each time just for peace of mind or preparation. It's called the Harmony Test and checks for the most common genetic disorders. The Harmony test also lets you know the sex of your child. We opted to learn. I would have liked to wait and be surprised with 'It's a boy!' or 'It's a girl!' but, honestly, I couldn't stand the suspense! It's a good thing we did because we took months to agree on their names.

Thinking Of A Name

It sounds like such an easy job to think of a name. It really isn't. Naming your child is one of your first ultra-important parenting jobs. It's a decision that will hound your child throughout their entire life and into the grave. So, no pressure or anything… We wanted something nice and a bit different, but not weird or with an embarrassing short form. Think Natalie. 'I don't like Nat.' Think Toby. 'My last dog was called Toby.' Think Tristan. 'Damn, my brother gave it to his kid first.' Think Karen – look what's happened to that name…

For my daughter, it took five months to decide. Only a few weeks before she was due did we name her Isla Kaelyn. At the time, the name Isla was down at number 500 in the popularity rankings; within the year, it had shot up to number 5. Sometimes, the best-laid plans still go awry. As a parent, all you can do is try. At least Kaelyn is still reasonably rare.

When naming my son, we were still deciding when he was born. We eventually thought he would pop out and look like one of the names we were mulling over, solving the problem for us. That would have been too easy! He emerged into this world, not looking like any of them, and had us completely stumped. He remained nameless for a whole day until Grandma came to the rescue with a suggestion taken from The Prydain Chronicles by Lloyd Alexander. The Prydain Chronicles are a series of books I have loved since childhood, and their unlikely hero is called Taran. My son was named Taran. He received Cian as a second name because my husband loved the name regardless of whether our son looked like a Cian.

Being Pregnant Makes Strange Things Happen

Being pregnant makes strange things happen to your body and mind that seem to have little or no relationship to pregnancy but occur due to the condition, regardless. An odd one was flashing 'wiggly worms' in my vision. Sometimes, they would last an hour or two; occasionally, they would remain for days. They were annoying more than problematic, although one big one did cause significant interference with my vision for about two days before it disappeared.

When pregnant with my daughter, there were a few things that happened which did not happen with my son. Perhaps the most dangerous, looking back now, was how I gained what I can only describe as 'an attitude of indestructibility'. Usually, I'm best described as a timid introvert and a tentative worrier. I am certainly not aggressive if I don't have to be. As my pregnancy progressed, this changed, and I seemed oblivious to danger. I would unhesitatingly stand between two arguing men twice my size to 'sort them out' - yes, I really did! Whether cars stop at zebra crossings is a bit hit and miss in Malta, but I would refuse to wait and step straight out onto them, causing squeals of breaks. I inevitably followed this up with an annoyed look aimed at that driver for not stopping earlier before exaggerating my pregnancy status and marching across with my head held high. What was I thinking?!

Being Ill While Pregnant

I fell ill with a sinus infection just into the second trimester when pregnant with my daughter. This was not just a sinus infection! It was the virus of torture sent from the bowels of hell! I felt like my nose was disintegrating! Various colours I didn't know were possible inside the human body kept flying out of my nose, which I needed to blow every two to three minutes! It was disgusting, really, really disgusting! At the time, we were visiting family in England; my husband and I had emigrated abroad many years before. We had an itinerary of travelling up and down the country to spend time with each family member in turn.

My husband was so tired from me waking him up throughout the night and blowing my nose that he was scared to drive. He thought he was going to fall asleep at the wheel. I couldn't sleep, barely ate, and literally struggled to breathe.

We had ten days in England; I was ill the whole time and absolutely miserable. I swore then that I was never going away from home again when pregnant.

Straight after this lovely, lady-like illness, I fell sick again with a horrific bronchitis episode.

The pressure from non-stop nose-blowing followed by constant coughing was too much stress on my pelvic floor, and I also ended up with stress incontinence. I received no help with any of these problems in case anything harmed the baby.

I was left feeling miserable and alone - an incubator rather than a real person.

It Gets Better

After about two to three weeks of bronchitis, my lungs improved. Without the coughing, my pelvic floor was given a chance to slowly improve and then, into my fifth month, my baby 'lifted', and I slowly, very slowly, recovered from the stress incontinence. But, I was highly embarrassed by it while it lasted. The second trimester of that pregnancy was a real 'low' point for me.

Pregnancy Anaemia

I managed to avoid any nasty bugs with my son, but I felt so tired when pregnant with him and very depressed. I just felt 'not right' but couldn't really explain to people exactly why. I had zero energy. Getting out of bed was too much effort; brushing my hair made my arm ache; I avoided showering because I would have to stand up for the time it took. I did the minimum I had to do to go to work, work for eight hours sitting down, only remaining upright through sheer force of will, before trudging home again.

Not Everyone Is Nice When You Are Pregnant

A couple of managers at work were quite mean because I couldn't do my job correctly. I had worked there for many years, and up to that point, I had been an outstanding employee. I felt I had more than earned a few months of leeway for not being entirely at the top of my game, but I didn't get it. The situation added to my misery, and after more than a few shifts, I would walk home in tears.

But Some Are Wonderful

Eventually, the problem reached my general manager, who stood behind me, going above and beyond to be considerate and accommodating. She was a shining star in a dark time, and I will always be incredibly grateful to her.

Anaemia Symptoms

My daughter was around two years old when I was pregnant with my son and was unknowingly anaemic. I struggled to pick her up and had to heave her into her cot at night. My husband worked shifts at the time, often at night, and I would usually be alone without family nearby. We developed this system at night, my daughter and I, where, if she needed comfort, she would stand in her cot with her head resting on my belly and put her little arms around my waist. We would sway from side to side until she was ready to lie down again.

This 'not right' feeling grew as my pregnancy progressed. I was even referred to a depression nurse, although she and I agreed it wasn't the 'classic' depression caused by hormones. I felt down because of how I felt physically.

There were 12 steps up to the flat I live in; at one point, I got to step eight and collapsed on my knees. I couldn't make the last four. After that, the local doctor signed me off sick, and I avoided leaving my flat.

It might have been overly dramatic, but I secretly doubted I would survive the pregnancy.

About ten days before I was due to give birth, I was sent for tests, actually for something else entirely, which turned out to be a false alarm. Still, during the tests, they discovered I was severely anaemic.

There was a rush to get my haemoglobin levels up before my due date, and I had to take the most enormous iron tablets ever. Three days later, I felt better than I had during the whole pregnancy! I felt fantastic! I walked from my bedroom to the living room without needing to rest in the middle. I cleaned my house – which was a disgusting mess, I'm embarrassed to say. I had a nice long shower. I brushed my hair – properly. I smiled. I talked to my husband. I played with my daughter. If anyone pregnant recognises this part of my story, ask for a blood test – just in case!

Heat Rashes

One problem I had at the end of the final trimesters was heat rashes across my torso. They were especially bad at night, and I wanted to tear my skin off. I gave myself scratches, sometimes bleeding ones. Anything touching my belly was agonising. I covered myself with calamine lotion and slept with a wet towel across my tummy and full air conditioning blasting across me. I took to wearing my husband's football shirts because the material was softer than any of my pregnancy clothing. I think he was a bit appalled at the treatment of his favourite team's shirt, but he wisely did his bit and kept quiet.

Caesarian Deliveries

For both pregnancies, I had caesarians.

Discussing things beforehand, my husband asked if I wanted him with me. I told him he had to wait till there wass a baby and then follow the baby!

There are stories about baby mix-ups, and I'm a worrier. However, other women have said they did exactly the same thing, so I'm not alone. As it turned out, he had no choice in what he could do. But both kids look like him and me, so neither of us has doubts we brought the right ones home.

The first caesarian was the more serious. Possibly due to the sinus infection and bronchitis in the second trimester putting so much pressure on my pelvis, I had developed a network of large veins around my uterus. The result was a 'cushion' of blood that kept my daughter from descending. In fact, she was so far up I could hardly breathe in any position but upright. The obstetrician had to cut through all the veins to cut through my uterus to get her out. I bled – a lot. During the procedure, I felt pain shoot from my feet up my body and slam into my head, and I began to retch non-stop. The room faded, and the last thing I saw was a purple squealing alien being rushed past while a nurse pushed my husband out of the room.

I woke up in a recovery room, desperate to meet my daughter. When the obstetrician came around afterwards, she said it was the only time in her career she had had to use her forceps to reach a baby during a caesarian.

Luckily, the problem was a one-time thing. With my second pregnancy, everything went as well as it could, and I got to hold my son as soon as he had been cleaned up.

Coming Home Without The Baby

After only one day with me, my daughter was taken to NICU because she couldn't keep her milk down. My husband and I went home alone. There was the cot we had bought, and the baby things spread around. I had left the house pregnant three days before, expecting everything to be altered when I returned, yet it was the same. It felt… wrong. Luckily, everything was fine. She stayed in NICU for a week, where they ran a battery of tests and fed her through a vein before concluding she just had terrible reflux, and I could take her home. My son got to leave with me straight away.

Baby Blues

For both pregnancies, I had the baby blues about three days after giving birth, which lasted about two days. I didn't feel depressed particularly, just a bit teary-eyed for no good reason.

Psychotic Thoughts

The weirdest thing I did get, which absolutely terrified me, was psychotic thoughts. They were horrific. I was afraid of them and yet scared to tell anyone should I be deemed dangerous, and they took my daughter away. Sometimes, they were so violent and intense that I had to walk away. I thought I was going crazy. I was afraid of myself. It took a year before they stopped altogether. They got less intense and less often until, eventually, they stopped. I had the same with my son, but to a far, far lesser degree, not so often and for a much shorter time. I said nothing for a very long time. When I finally began to admit these thoughts, many other women spoke up to express the same thing; it seemed all of us had remained silent in fear our children would be taken away.

Back Home With A New Baby

The caesarian wounds healed up fine, and I actually had no health problems afterwards at all. Although the second time, my daughter had missed her Mummy, she insisted on being very close to me, climbing on me for hugs and kisses, often pressing a little hand down on the gaping wound in my lower abdomen. This, while unintentional, was highly painful.

I think the biggest problem we had at home was, yet again, with my daughter. The reflux which had kept her in the NICU was a problem. Held upright, cuddled in loving arms, she was a good baby. Try to put her down, and there was non-stop screaming. She vomited up so much milk she had to be fed more often. My husband and I put her to sleep strapped into her pram, holding her upright more than her cot. We slept top-to-tail on the sofa so we could tag team feedings. Grandma and Grandad babysat during the day so we could nap. This continued for about two months, and her improvement was slow. My son would sleep anywhere just fine right from the get-go; he was so easy in comparison.

Sleeping The Night Through

When it came time to sleep through the night, my son began to sleep eight hours entirely on his own at around three and a half months. My daughter wasn't so easy. I ended up having to do a cry-out. It was tough to let her cry and not go to her; sometimes, I was almost in tears myself. I stayed in the corner of the room in case of a problem but didn't go to her. It took three nights. She cried three hours the first night, an hour and a half the second night and then 45 minutes the third. On the fourth, she whimpered a bit but didn't wake up. Since then, unless there is a problem, she sleeps the night through.

Nurseries Are Gold

We are lucky to live in a country with free childcare if both parents work. I doubt we could have afforded it otherwise. In all honesty, when we enrolled my daughter, my husband and I just thought, 'A-ha! Free childcare!'. By the time my son came along, we were nursery fans.

I know there are reports of some awful nurseries, but I think they are the exception, not the norm. From our point of view, we saw her accomplish things we would never have thought to teach her because we wouldn't have known she could do it at such a young age. She spent her birthdays surrounded by her little friends, and she even had a best friend. She made a mess, ran around and did so many things she would not have been able to do at home, nor would I have ever thought of doing. She was so happy and learnt so much. I truly believe it gave her a significant head start in life, and I'm glad she had the opportunity. My son still attends the same nursery.

Falling Ill Is Hard!

One of the hardest parts of parenting is when I am ill, and my husband says it's the same for him. Before we had kids, I could lie down and care for myself when I had a virus or a nasty headache.

Living away from family, we have no one to take the burden of care. If my husband or I have a stomach bug, we still have to leave the house to collect the kids from nursery or kindergarten.

I'm a migraine sufferer, and if I have a migraine, I have to manage with two kids running around making noise as best as possible.

It is not pleasant when the kids are ill, but you can take care of them. However, no one can take care of you when you are sick.

Parenting Fails

Before concluding this post, let me finish on my biggest parent failures so far. There have been quite a few, and I am sure I will make plenty more before thay are old enough to head off by themselves. First, some of the funny ones.

When You Misunderstand The Invite

My daughter was invited to a birthday party that my husband and I thought was fancy dress. We sent her as Wonderwoman, complete with a gold hairband. She looked super cute, but was the only one in fancy dress…

Fathers Of Daughters

One by my husband, for which I actually have a photo I took after I had finished laughing.

My daughter received some fancy outfits with buttons up the back. My husband, who has never been interested in female fashion, tried to dress her in it. When I came home and saw it, I told him to turn it around. He looked baffled and said, 'But buttons go at the front, don't they?'

Men have so much to learn when they gain a daughter. Now, he is a dab hand at doing hair and can match the top and bottom of an outfit like a pro!

And Mothers Of Sons

Another funny one was with my son. He went through a stage of being extremely difficult during nappy changes. One time. I was incredibly late dropping him off at nursery to get to work. I pushed him into one of his sister's pastel pink princess pull-ups because I couldn't get him to lie down long enough to put his regular nappies on. I ran him along the road and deposited him at the nursery in them, but not much else. It amused the nursery staff anyway.

A Bad Mistake

The Situation

My worst and most serious fail by far was with my son. He was about a year and a half at the time. From my house, the nursery is about a 20-minute walk in one direction, whilst the kindergarten school is an hour's walk in the opposite direction.

One day, my husband was at work with our car, and I had no money for a taxi. My daughter was at school, and my son was at nursery. The day was not pleasant; it was raining, windy and cold.

I received a call from the nursery saying my son was ill and I needed to come and get him.

About 20 metres from the nursery, I received another call, this time from the school, saying my daughter had had a toilet accident; come and change her.

I picked up my son, took him home and wrapped him up as best I could. I collected some fresh clothes for my daughter, put a rain cover on the pram for my son and set off for the hour-long walk to the school.

Bad Weather

The wind was so bad it kept blowing the rain cover off, followed by the blanket. At one point, the cover blew off entirely and cartwheeled down the road at one point. It was retrieved only because of a kindly man walking behind me who ran after it.

My poorly son was so cold, his little nose red, and his hands freezing. His nap time had been and gone; he hadn't slept.

At The School

At the kindergarten school, I cleaned and changed my daughter, but it was still within school time, so I had to leave her there. I turned around and made the hour-long walk back home.

At Home

At home, I took my son's temperature. He had a fever. I gave him Calpol and laid him down. He was so tired he went to sleep straight away. However, I could only give him 20 minutes because I had to return to the school in time for it to finish and collect my daughter. 20 minutes later, I bundled my poorly, cold, tired little man back in his pram. He hadn't even eaten properly, so I gave him a few biscuits, which was the only thing I had that he could eat on the go.

Back At The School

We set off again out into the cold and wet to make the long walk back to the school. I couldn't get to the school in time, and I was late to collect my daughter. She was distraught at being the last one there and thought her Mummy had forgotten her. Both kids with me, I turned around and walked back home.

Typically, my husband arrives in time to pick us up mid-walk and take some time off the journey. That day, he was late leaving work, and we walked the whole way back home.

Things Get Worse

It was dark by the time we got home.

My son was so cold and tired. My husband and I talked about taking him to the doctor, but he hadn't slept and was so tired we decided to let him sleep the night and take him in the morning.

After ten minutes in his cot, my husband checked on him. He came and got me because my son's breathing was very fast. We both listened, and it was a deep, quick breath which didn't seem normal. We checked the internet, and it said if there were more than so many breaths per minute to seek medical attention. There were.

We woke Taran up yet again and bundled him up. My husband rushed him to the car while I stayed home with our daughter.

Our son began to shiver on the way, and my husband called me from the car to say he was taking him to the polyclinic instead. For reference, the polyclinic is an open-all-hours, slightly more equipped clinic than a local general practitioner. The polyclinic doctors saw our son and sent my husband to the hospital instead. At the hospital, Taran was admitted, and the paediatrician said he was close to needing an oxygen tent.

A Nasty Virus Going Around

My son had caught a nasty virus going around at the time. Many young children were affected, and the paediatric hospital wards were overflowing. It was a respiratory virus that caused asthma-like symptoms.

The paediatrician kept our son in for nearly a week with Ventolin inhalations every three hours; he also got a secondary ear infection. Luckily, he recovered perfectly fine.

Life Now

Nowadays, my husband and I have two incredible kids we adore. But with absolutely and definitely no plans whatsoever for another!